


black fire’s burning bright | IT AU

by angeldenbrough



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Biting, Bottom Bill Denbrough, Choking, Come Eating, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Degradation, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Gukkun, Light Bondage, M/M, Master/Pet, Pet Play, Rough Sex, Skippable Gore, Spanking, Stan is a great boyfriend but a terrible person, Stan is an asshole to everyone except Bill, Top Stanley Uris, Wax Play, Workplace Homophobia, all kinks are consensual!!, everything is consensual!!, no undertones here babe, pain play, sir kink?? is that a thing??, theres some fluff in this but. it’s mostly v rough, unhealthy attachments to a significant other, warnings - this story includes:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 47,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeldenbrough/pseuds/angeldenbrough
Summary: Bill Denbrough is the lead detective hot on the case of catching the serial killer terrorizing his hometown. Stanley Uris is the serial killer, and little does Bill know; he’s trying to catch his own boyfriend.— important; there’s line breaks before the actual plot happens in every chapter, so if you just want to read sub!bill getting his back blown out, you can lol
Relationships: Bill Denbrough & Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris
Comments: 12
Kudos: 35





	1. keep you safe & inspired

**Author's Note:**

> i am in NO WAY condoning/co-signing the behaviour in this story. please do not romanticize the real people in the real world who have done terrible things like this!!! this is just a story written by a depressed teenager with too much free time on their hands
> 
> inspired by an idea i think i remember seeing in a fic on here a long time ago; and ted bundy documentaries i watched during quarantine (my mind went some dark places for this one lol) , hope you enjoy 
> 
> also, i wrote this... MONTHS AGO, just so you know. aka, in january. but i saw this in a file and wanted to continue a few weeks ago. school is consuming me atm so i barely have time to write anything new, but i wanted to continue something old. i’m trying my hardest to find time to conclude stanley’s body but!!! i’m tired and sad lol
> 
> my opinions are very much, ACAB, fuck the police! i just liked this story au. acab, except bill denbrough in THIS story. 
> 
> stanley’s behaviour is also VERY much inspired by the yorkshire yipper. a real life guy who did pretty much every thing stanley did, and share a lot of behaviour (sort of)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am in NO WAY condoning/co-signing the behaviour in this story. please do not romanticize the real people in the real world who have done terrible things like this!!! this is just a story written by a depressed teenager with too much free time on their hands
> 
> inspired by an idea i think i remember seeing in a fic on here a long time ago; and ted bundy documentaries i watched during quarantine (my mind went some dark places for this one lol) , hope you enjoy 
> 
> also, i wrote this... MONTHS AGO, just so you know. my opinions are very much, ACAB, fuck the police, i just liked this story au. acab, except bill denbrough
> 
> stanley is very much inspired by the yorkshire ripper, someone who did like- everything stanley does in this story

Stanley sighed, he really should call Bill. He didn’t want him to worry, as he often did. He’s probably worrying about him right now, and that made Stanley’s heart ache for a moment. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and called Bill. “Hey babe,” Stanley’s voice was as smooth as velvet. Bill sighed happily, and Stanley felt happier hearing his voice, his heart wasn’t as heavy anymore. He had missed Bill all throughout the day, as he always did. That contributed to the normality of the situation for Stan. “H-Hey Stan, what’s up? I just got home-“ And Stanley could figure just as much, he heard Bill close the front door gingerly behind him, and kick his shoes off. He heard the keys jingle in his hand as he set them down. Stanley took a brief second to steady himself, a carefully calculated second. He didn’t take too long, because that would be suspicious; it would feel rehearsed. “I’ll be a little late coming home. Something... unexpected came up and I have to take care of it,” Stanley explained, listening to Bill walk through the house, to the living room, presumably. 

“Oh yah, that’s fine. Sorry about that, though. Good luck with whatever it is you’re doing!” He spoke cheerfully, and Stanley knew that if Bill was privy, or had even the slightest idea of what he was doing right now- he would not have wished him luck. He, and the rest of the uniform officers would be on their way to him right now, their flashing lights disturbing the peaceful night, and the sirens would cut through the calm like a knife. But he didn’t know, so he took the wellwish. “Thank you honey, I love you, I’ll be home as soon as I can,” Stanley promised, “Love you too,” Bill said on the other end, and hung up. Now that that was out of the way, Stanley could return his attention back to the dead body slumped at his feet.

This was going to be body number nine when the police found it. Or, more accurately, if the police ever found it. According to the papers, there had been 5 young men slain by the “Barrens Butcher”- a moniker given to him by the Derry newspaper. A nickname Stanley detested, by the way. If he was an idiot, he would write the papers a letter demanding a new name, one with a bit more creativity- one that didn’t sound so stereotypical. I mean, did they even try? They took the location of the place he hid the bodies, and picked up a thesaurus and chose the first synonym for ‘killer’ that had alliteration with the location. Stanley felt he deserved a way better name. But that’s how he’d get caught. And he did not want to be caught, and he was damn good at making sure he’d never get caught. Not a single piece of admissible evidence, DNA or clues had been recovered in any of his crime scenes. Even in the modern age of forensic scientific expertise; the most cutting age technology could not beat him. He was that damn good. That was not to say, he was complacently comfortable in his success. 

His success only motivated him to get better, to be more cautious. He was not going to let a silly mistake be his downfall. He had learned the mistakes of all his more famous, well known predecessors and calculated ways to avoid them at all costs. If he could, he would laugh in their faces and ask them how they could be so careless, how they could be so stupid. Not only was he highly calculated and logical, in all situations; he also had nearly 20 years experience of being a damn good cleaner. He had severe obsessive compulsive disorder, and while he had his spells of other things; most of his compulsions and obsessions relied heavily on cleanliness, and the need to be clean. He knew how to properly sterilize anything, get rid of any stain, clean up any mess- which proved to be a very, very useful skill in his murders. 

“What to do with you...” Stanley spoke aloud, not worrying about anybody hearing him, or finding him. This was a very remote area of the Barrens. An area he and his childhood friends spent most of their summers, Stanley felt a tinge of guilt creep on him as he thought about that. What used to be such a pure place for him, now was where all his evil dwelled; where all his evidence, and his victims laid to rest. He paced for a while, wanting to take everything in. It was a beautiful night, the trees and plants that were around him were tinged brown and gold as the summer was turning to fall, but the grass under his feet was as plush as ever. He heard the water nearby trickle calmly, and the cool night air felt nice against his skin. He swore he could hear an owl nearby, too. 

A Barred Owl, if he knew his birds well; and he most certainly did. He took the night in triumphantly. One more night of freedom, one more night he avoided jail, one more night that proved he was smarter than everyone trying to catch him. They were aware of 5 bodies, and the one that lay at his feet was number nine. He wasn’t just a few steps ahead, he was a whole marathon ahead. Stanley returned from his short pace around, he needed to collect his thoughts and keep a level head so he didn’t do anything rash or careless. He was in no rush anyways, he had all the time in the world to think, and have his fun. 

He had brown hair, but a different kind of brown. It looked a bit red when the light hit it. He had big green eyes too, with reflects of teal in them, still frozen in fear. They were wide and permanently unblinking, and would stay that way. He had pale, milky white skin too. He laughed to himself as he stared. He certainly did have a type, didn't he. He was a new secretary in the office Stanley worked at. He had maybe only started work there a few months ago. His name was... Peter. No, that couldn’t be it. His name was.... Peyton... no that wasn’t it either. It started with a P, he vaguely remembered. Stanley, for the life of him, could not remember his name at all. He had wracked his brain all night trying to think of it, that line of questioning in the back of his mind though; he didn’t want to waste his time thinking of something that was, in his book, not important. He didn’t matter in the slightest to Stanley, not in the least bit. He was a means to an end, and nothing more. When animals really needed to mate, they went into heat. Stanley went through the same thing, in a sort of way. 

But, it was a bloodlust. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, all day at work that day. He hasn’t killed anyone in almost 10 days, he, in his infinite kindness, had wanted to give the police a ten day grace period to hopefully find a body, or a clue, or something! Being this ahead was boring for him. It was fucking eating away at him. He shouldn’t have to live like that. He had a plan, he was going to take care of it one way or the fucking other- the next person to cross his path was going to fucking get it. His fingers dug into the armrest of his desk chair as he thought about it. He had decided he would let Bill have it extra rough to celebrate too. His ten day dry spell was coming to an end tonight. A ten day dry spell from killing- not sex; Stanley would be happy to note. 

Thank G-d he didn’t have sexual frustration to deal with on top of this, because murder frustration was a head ache all on its own. But, even though he had just practically blew Bill’s back out last night, he still fantasized about everything he had hoped to do to Bill once he got home as if they hadn’t touched in months. His cock grew strained against his dress pants as he thought about it. Post kill sex was always so great, and Bill’s tight little ass was always the cherry on top of a great day. Tonight was going to be amazing. And speaking of Bill, Stanley’s pants were getting very tight, and if he didn’t take care of it soon, noticeably tight. And he couldn’t have that. He brought his phone with him eagerly, he was going to head to the abandoned storage room on the 5th floor of their office building and call Bill to talk to him while he, helped to relieve himself of his... problem. 

After Bill was more than willing to solve his little problem in the best way they both knew how, phone sex; he thought he’d finally ask out the new receptionist in his department for some coffee after work. Nothing overtly romantic or flirtatious, but not speaking casually enough to dismiss that either; he wanted him to get his hopes up, daydream about something that was never going to happen. If his hopes weren’t up, he wouldn’t come. Because Stanley knew the effect he had on men, and women who didn’t care that he was gay; and he especially knew the effect he had on that man. He had developed a… sort of crush on Stanley. Which Stanley manipulated and used to his advantage whenever possible, as he always did whenever somebody developed an affinity for him. He’d get him copies of whatever he needed without even asking, he’d always ask Stanley how his weekend was (and hang on his every word as he answered), bothered to remember what his favourite candy was, and put it out in a little bowl on his desk (under the guise of a communal bowl, but he knew damn well who it was really for), and make up excuses to spend a lot of his work hours in the accounting department, where Stanley worked. Sometimes, he’d even work up his courage all morning so he could ask Stanley to lunch that afternoon. 

And Stanley would love to see the way his face dropped, and turned stoic and sad when he would say, “Sorry, I can’t. I’m meeting my boyfriend for lunch. Some other time? Maybe?”. Yah, he had had a crush on Stanley; and quite honestly, Stanley was quite frankly, embarrassed for him. He thought it was pathetic, not endearing. Because most romance repulsed him, nauseated him. The only person he could appreciate that from was Bill, and the only person he would ever want to reciprocate that to was Bill. Nobody else was worth his time, quite frankly; or at least he thought so. Stanley was entertained by his own cruelty sometimes.

It was never about cheating on Bill. He loved Bill more than anything in the world. He did this because he loved Bill so much. He didn’t ever want to hurt him, so he took his urges out on other people. Better a hundred innocent men die, than Bill ever having to see the monster that was Stanley’s depraved desires rear its ugly head. This was his way of protecting Bill from himself, that was the kind of guy he was. Tonight’s victim really had it coming too. Stanley knew that he knew he had a serious boyfriend, and yet he agreed to go out with him after work anyways. Stanley always saw the looks of contempt and disgust he would give the framed pictures Stanley had on his desk of Bill and him. Stanley had always wanted to call him out on it, but now he realized he’d never get the chance. How dare he go out with him, how dare he assume he would cheat on Bill with him. How dare he assume he was better than Bill. His stomach turned in seething rage that quickly overtook him. If it wouldn’t have left DNA behind, he would’ve spat on him. He disgusted him. 

And normally, Stanley would not strike so close to him. This man worked at the same office he did; that would automatically turn some heads, if not set him up for some police questioning. And he was one step ahead, as always. Can’t be identified if you don’t have fingerprints. He walked over to the open trunk of his car, and went to the secret compartment he had made for himself. He cut a hole in the carpet of the trunk, so he could hide all of his supplies in there, but covered it with a lid made from the same interior so you couldn’t even notice it if you tried. It was perfectly seamless, there was nothing that gave it away. 

Not even Bill had noticed it. He went inside the compartment and grabbed a small, freshly sharpened knife and a plastic bag, careful to make sure it had no discernible brand, because if it did they could track the serial number, and that would lead them to the store he bought it from, and before he knew it he would be on death row- he could not have that. And rubber gloves as well, taking the needed precautions with the same thought process as the plastic bag. He walked back over to his victim, and cut each of the tips of his fingers off, and put them into the little bag. Step one. He washed the plastic bag and his gloves in the shallow water of the barrens, making sure all of the blood was off. He dumped the fingertips in the water too, he watched as some were carried away by the current, and as some quickly became fish food. He dug a deep hole, far away from the edge of the water so it would erode, and buried the bag- just to be sure. An unneeded precaution, it wouldn’t be suspicious if anyone found it. 

He walked back over to his car, and grabbed a pair of pliers, and a mallet. He knelt over his victims mouth and pulled his mouth open viciously. He broke his jaw with his mallet to be able to unhinge it, to open it even wider. He pulled each one of his teeth out, and placed them in the bag one by one. It was easier as he did it more, but he never found a way to get the back teeth out easier- they needed more of a harsher pull than any other type. He couldn’t imagine how dentists did it. Once all the teeth were gone, and he had made sure to check for wisdom teeth that hadn’t yet been visible yet. Blood got all over the light blue of his gloves, and it was beautiful. He collected all the teeth in the plastic bag, and pulverized them with his mallet. He couldn’t let there be any chance of being caught, there couldn’t be anything remotely resembling a tooth in that bag. 

Stan kissed him, a final good bye and a morbid apology. He then stripped him, and washed him all over with a mix of bleach and chemicals. He was totally clean, and free of the stains of that night. 

His gloves still had DNA evidence on them, but at least they weren’t dripping that evidence all over his car; he lit a small fire, and got a bottle of kerosine from his car. He threw his two gloves in and his victims clothes and watched them burst into flames and turn to ash in front of his very eyes. In that sight, he saw freedom, evasion. He was also careful to not let the fire get too out of control, it burned too heavy or produced too much smoke- that could attract a lot of unwanted attention. Attention he couldn’t afford to capture. He let the fire die out on its own, and cleaned his tools in heavy bleach and chemical mixes he had gotten from his car. After everything was done, he packed up his car exactly as he arrived, and got in. He drove away without a care in the world, the rush and exhilaration pulsed through his veins. The adrenaline washed over him like a monsoon on an unsuspecting shore- hard and fast. He had gotten away with the perfect crime, yet again. 

Step one and two had been completed, expertly he may add. He held his river water washed teeth that had been crushed into dust in his hand. He sprinkled them as he drove home, careful to change his route from the usual one- just in case the dust particles were large enough to recognize. The scenic drive was comforting, dark and peaceful. He couldn’t wait to get home, and he replayed the memories of the night as he raced home to see his lover. He felt powerful, invincible.

Stanley parked his car in the driveway of the home he and his boyfriend Bill shared together. He hated the term boyfriend though, and life partner sounded too cliche. So he supposed he’d just have to stick with ‘his boyfriend’. He made sure to lock his car doors more than once, a compulsion induced by his OCD- not by fear. The worst thing on the loose in this town was himself, he had nothing, and most certainly no one to fear. He calmly walked up the steps of his porch and unlocked his door, stepped inside and made sure to check to make sure he locked it again upon reentering. Just as he always did. As sick as it was, this was a very normal day for him. And his exterior and interior reflected that- he was calm, cool, collected and soft spoken just as he always was; and his heartbeat was completely normal. Stanley came home, and didn’t see Bill in the living room waiting for him. Maybe he had already had dinner and went to sleep without him. That was perfectly understandable, he was over 2 hours late after all. 

“Hey Bill, I’m home,” He said as he kicked his shoes off, and placed his coat neatly on a coat hanger and car keys in the dish on the mahogany desk in their foyer. Bill was a cop and occasional crime reporter, and Stanley was a successful accountant. They live well, very well in fact. Which was a great cover for him, nobody would ever think a wealthy account would have anything resembling a bloodlust. And, he was dating a cop- and in a conservative town like Derry, cops were the pillar of the community. Even if you were a gay cop, in a town like Derry, that meant a great deal. They , and above all else, trusted their judgement. If he was good enough to be Officer Bill Denbrough’s partner- he certainly was no killer. Stanley spoke again, this time louder so no matter where Bill was in their house, he’d be able to hear him, “Work ran a little late tonight, last minute tax filings that needed to get sent out; you know how that goes...” He trailed off into a laugh; which was just as fake as the excuse he gave. It was, to be frank, bullshit. As were all the excuses Stanley would give Bill for why he was late coming home, most of his excuses were just taking two words that sounded vaguely like something an accountant would do; and that would usually suffice. Bill was under so much pressure at work, pressure from the public to catch the deviant on the loose, pressure from his colleagues to somehow solve all of this himself, and pressure to prove himself to his colleagues who looked down upon him. 

Bill was not only the first openly gay police officer in Derry’s police department, he was also the youngest detective in their history- Stanley would happily brag to anyone who would listen. But because of those two reasons, his higher ups hated him; wether it was a hatred of change, hatred of diversity or just plain jealousy- the superior officers made his work life a living hell. And he didn’t know that just from all the Christmas parties he had went to with Bill, where they had been the very odd ones out. He knew that from the stories Bill told to him every night as they told each other about each other’s days. And boy did every one of those bastards make Stanley’s blood boil. They would’ve been dealt with a very, very long time ago- the only reason why he hasn’t was because he didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention to him, or his boyfriend. Stanley wanted them all gone, and he made a silent promise to Bill in the confines of his thoughts that one day they would be. They had always talked about moving out of Derry, maybe to Portland, or Bangor, or maybe even out of Maine entirely. 

Not just because they wanted more than their sleepy State, and their more sleepy little town had to offer; but because Bill hated working in the Derry Police Department. But, every time he had tried to file a request to be transferred to another department, the higher ups had never sent it. Because they knew they needed Bill, because Bill solved all their cases. Not a damn thing would get done in that town if it wasn’t for him; not that anyone knew it though. The other cops took credit for Bill’s hard works, his great ideas, his long sleepless nights, curled up in Stanley’s lap as he tried to solve cases. Bill never got the credit he deserved. And Stanley couldn’t stand that, and his patience was slowly wearing thin. So in short, why Stanley was a few hours late from work every so often was the least of his worries. He was so wrapped up in trying to catch the killer terrorizing the town, he missed the most obvious signs in front of him. The signs that woke up in bed beside him each morning. 

Stanley walked into the laundry room that was just beside the foyer. He quietly and quickly closed the door; not for privacy, but because he didn’t want to be interrupted. Stanley stripped himself of the contaminated, but not very stained suit. Stanley was always pretty good at controlling the blood splatter if he stabbed somebody; but he mostly choked his victims out just to be safe. Which was a shame too, he loved to see the pretty red drip from their wounds. He put them in the washer, and changed into the clean clothes that he had neatly folded and laid out for himself upon his arrival home, that morning. And this, in any other circumstance for any other person would be extremely, extremely suspicious. 

Not so for Stan. As previously mentioned, he struggled with severe OCD; and this was a practice he had done since he was an early teen- when his symptoms started to manifest more prominently. No one thought anything of it, escapacially Bill. That’s what he always had done, since he was a child in his family home, since their first apartment together, since their first home together, and right then included. Stanley couldn’t bare the thought of the dirt from the outside world in his home, so he made Bill do the same as well. Not that he had a need to make him though, Bill was happy to do anything to ease Stanley’s mind. He never judged or looked down upon him. If that was something Stanley needed to be done, he would do it. 

Stanley walked out of the laundry room and into the rest of the house, casually glancing and looking for Bill. He enjoyed the new found comfort, he hated having to wear a suit for work. He went into the kitchen, and saw Bill waiting for him.  
That was it, that’s why he spared him time and time again. “H-hi Stan,” Bill beamed, happiness oozing from his voice, and Stanley returned that look tenfold. “I assumed you w-were working late, let m-me heat up dinner for you, I m-made you your favourite, and p-poured you your favourite wine...” Bill said as he gestured for Stanley to sit down, which he did. Bill got up to heat up his dinner, and Stanley grabbed his hand and placed a gentle kiss to his skin. “Thank you, my love,” Stanley said gently, letting his hand go slowly. He took a sip from his wine glass as he waited for his dinner. 

Stan grabbed his dishes after he ate and put them in the dishwasher. Bill followed closely behind him, and wrapped his arms around his waist, he rested his head in the crook of his neck, and placed gentle kisses there. Stanley felt the hot breath of his lover and loved it. He knew he wasn’t deserving of Bill’s affections, or someone as great as Bill. But he was too selfish to give him away. Bill’s hands left his waist traced patterns and the muscles of his chest and abdomen that he felt through the thin fabric of his shirt. Stanley’s breath hitched. And as his hands got more teasing, his hand got lower and lower. Stanley places a hand around his wrist, this time more dominating. Bill shuddered at the act of forwardness of the act, and surrendered into his touch. 

“C’mon... Bill.... You’ve been so good... you deserve a reward, yah?” Stanley whispered with noticeable seduction in his voice and Bill nodded enthusiastically, “P-Please...” He mewled. And that was all Stanley needed to light the fuse of the bomb of lust set to detonate in his chest. He needed him bad. He pulled him to their room upstairs quickly and slammed the door behind them. Stan pushed him on the bed harshly, and straddled him. “Just sit here, and let me make me feel good.” Stanley loved his pillow princess so much, one of his favourite things to do was just spread him out, and reward him for being such a good boy. Bill nodded enthusiastically, he loved to be taken care of by Stan, he loved to be used by Stan. He squirmed in anticipation under his heavy gaze as he fantasized about everything Stan was going to do to him. Stan wasted no time, and pulled Bill’s sweater over his head and threw it off the bed, and did the same to his pants. He wasn’t in the mood to tease him, slowly taking his clothes off. He had to have him now, he needed to ride this wave of invincibility coursing through his veins right now more than anything. He needed Bill. He needed Bill naked, he needed Bill vulnerable. 

“Somebody’s eager....” Bill laughed, and Stanley smirked. Bill was, quite frankly, in no position to talk. Stanley stroked Bill’s exposed cock and he groaned, “Yah.. somebody sure is....” He whispered against his ear, taking his lobe between his teeth and biting it. Bill groaned, and nodded. “No underwear either... you’re so fucking hot baby...” He purred his name and he felt Bill twitch in his hand. “You drive me insane...” Stanley spoke as he moved down his neck, raking his teeth down. He felt Bill’s hand touch his chest, and he grabbed it before he could do anything more. Stanley’s voice was still mused with seduction, but his voice grew more possessive; more rough. “I told you to let me do all the work. Do what I ask,” And Bill moaned out a very eager yes. Stanley went over to his side of the bed and feverishly searched through the vast collection of sex toys in each of the drawers until he found what he was looking for. As soon as Bill saw what he had, his heart raced and he couldn’t wait. Bill’s eyes were wide and dazzled with desire as he saw Stanley crawl over to him with a bottle of lube the familiar white rope in his hand. White rope that he knew all too well. Stanley roughly took both of Bill’s small wrists in his large hand and tied his hands together to the bed frame behind him. 

“T-Tighter.. Stan.. I want it to hurt...” and Stanley groaned huskily at that, Bill was going to be the death of him. He pulled it tighter, and Bill moaned with half lidded eyes. Stanley felt himself grow harder in his pants as he looked at Bill with both love, and a lust for power in his eyes. Bill shuddered under his heavy gaze. He looked so damn pretty like this, if it was up to Stan, he’d be like this forever. Naked, pretty and tied up at his disposal at any time; his erection proudly on display. Bill felt his gaze rest there, and he covered his erection (or at least tried to) with his thigh. Stanley gripped his thighs and pulled them apart; “Let me look,” and Bill nodded and Stanley trusted that he would let him, so he removed his hand. And Bill pulled his thighs apart and allowed himself to be fully at the mercy of Stanley. Fully on display for him. “Thank you for letting me look....” Stanley cooed, his hand finding its place on Bill’s member again. Stroking it as slowly as his words were. Bill melted into his touch and moaned out desperately. “You’re so fucking pretty...“ Stanley spoke again, his pace was quickening now, and Bill bucked his hips into his touch. He felt as though he could cum just from his praises alone. Stanley kissed his neck, they were sloppy and sensual. Bill’s breath was heavy as Stan sunk his teeth into his neck, biting and sucking at the skin his lips touched. 

“Cum when I tell you to,” Stanley mused against his skin. Bill nodded, he would try his absolute hardest. Bill was growing dizzier though. Stanley’s touch was intoxicating, his dirty words and commands were intoxicating, Stanley was intoxicating. He whimpered as Stan left him breathless, he thought he was going to combust with need. Stanley could feel Bill’s thighs tremble around him. He knew that he was close, he had been with Bill long enough to know the signs that he was coming close to his undoing. 

“Cum for me babydoll, let me see you cum,” And Bill did just as Stanley murmured the words. He cried out desperately as he came to a release. He arched his back as he came in Stanley’s hand, and against his clothed chest. He felt weak, and closed his eyes as he let out a string of moans, and many inaudible ‘Oh Stanley!!’s. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum, baby,” Stanley said, giving his spent cock a few more strokes. Bill came down from his high, panting and breathing heavily. His soft auburn hair had fallen all in his face, and Stanley smiled lovingly at the mess his partner had become. Stanley pushed his hair back, and raked his fingers through his locks. Stanley smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead, happy to be able to see his boyfriend’s beautiful eyes again. 

“Hi baby,” Stanley smiled, running a thumb over his cheek tenderly. Bill smiled back, blushing at the touch. “Sorry about your shirt...” Bill said, bashfully genuinely apologetic. Stanley smiled, his heart hurt with love. “Don’t be, baby... you’re so hot... fuck... I’d leave it there if I could,” Stanley spoke, and Bill laughed, “You’re gross,” He said jokingly, and Stan knew that he had meant no harm. “Maybe, angel... maybe I am,” He chuckled. He took his shirt off and set it to the side. His laughing, soft tone was gone. Replaced with the familiar, wanton tone that made Bill so weak. “So good for me.. cumming when I tell you. You’re too good, baby...” Stanley cooed in his ear, tracing patterns into Bill’s heaving chest. “I’ve been so good.. I’ve been such a good boy tonight... could you use the wax... please” He looked so sexy begging to be hurt, begging to be hurt by being all tied up, his lips swollen and red. “Alright baby, since you’ve been so great tonight,” and Bill smiled as Stan got up and left the room. He closed his eyes in anticipation and opened them again when he felt the bed shift when Stan returned. He had a lit candle in each hand. The fire intoxicated Bill, he couldn’t fucking wait. 

Stanley straddled him again, and admired the sight of his debauched lover spread out for him. The prettiest thing in the world, in his opinion. Bill bit his lip, and stared at Stanley with big, wide eyes, waiting for him to do something. His breathing was heavy and he tried to relax himself. Stan tipped one of the candles over, and watched as the wax dripped onto Bill’s chest. Bill moaned and bit his lip at the sharp pain, it hurt in the best way possible. “Tell me if I do too much, baby,” Stanley cooed, and Bill laughed softly, “N-no such thing...” and Stanley was impossibly turned on by that comment. He tipped it a second time, and Bill moaned louder- but didn’t bite his lip again, he was growing used to it now. “Ah... oh Stan..” he cried as he felt another drop hit his skin. Stanley quickly grew addicted to the mewls and whimpers Bill let out, he tested Bill to his limits- see if he was being for real when he said there was no such thing as too much. Stanley loved the sight of his lover's skin covered in pretty pink and red. Blemished by him, tainted with evidence he had been there. Bill moaned, trying to get the words he wanted to say out; it was hard though, it was all so much for him. “An S, Stan. Please. In the shape of an S...” Bill moaned as he felt the wax he loved so much drip onto his chest. “Aww, baby wants to be marked as mine hmm...” Stanley cooed teasingly, and Bill looked away, embarrassed; but nodded in desperate agreement. 

“That feels so good,” Bill said through strained whimpers and moans, as he watched Stan drip the slightly cooler wax onto his chest in the shape of an S. It wasn’t as hot, so it hurt a little bit less. Stan blew the two candles out and set what was left of them on the dresser. It wasn’t the only fire he had set that night, but it was going to be the last. He kissed him, hoping to distract him slightly as he began to peel off the wax that hardened and dried on his skin. He felt Bill tremble and since against his lips, and pressed their foreheads even closer together as they kissed; wanting to completely overtake him because of how turned on he was. Every wince made him grow harder, he felt so in control, so powerful over him. Stanley kissed hard enough to bruise, rolling their tongues over each other with force; their teeth clicking together. It was rough, it was animalistic and Stanley wanted more. Stan’s rough hands found their way to Bill’s hair and pulled it harshly taunt. 

Bill whimpered, “Oh G-d... Stan,” He broke their kiss to say, he breathed against his lips and the hot air that ghosted against Stanley’s face felt unbelievable. He pulled his hair to allow him more access to his neck, tracing his neck with his tongue, but he had no intention of staying there all night. 

Stanley traced the burns with his tongue along the red burn marks that decorated his chest, and Bill moaned at the sting. “The sounds you make are fucking delicious,” Stanley said. He kissed his chest, sucking hickies there as well. Too many to count, or maybe too many that he didn’t bother to count. He loved to mark Bill up, and Bill loved to be marked up, they got along beautifully that way. He took one of his nipples in his mouth, and ran his tongue over it. Bill whined, he was so sensitive there. He played with it between his teeth, and the other between his fingers. Bill mewled as Stanley sucked at them hard, but not too hard- exactly how he liked. He panted, and he felt Stanley smirk against his chest. Bill wanted to touch Stan so bad. He pulled at his restraints that served as a reminder that he couldn’t. They were a reminder of all the things that he couldn’t do. He wanted to pull Stan’s beautiful curls, he wanted to run his fingers along his broad chest, touch him too. But, that was for another night he supposed. Stan worked his way down his body, until he got to his waist. Bill’s heart fluttered in anticipation, he hoped that Stanley would do something- ANYTHING to his dick. He was so hard and was so tired of not getting touched there that he was sure even a glance would get him to cum. 

Stan placed kisses at his protruding hip bone, sucking at it a bit as he did so. Bill winced, he wanted more, he wanted more so bad. Stan avoided his member, on purpose too; he wanted to draw Bill out, make him beg for him. He never pressed a single kiss or teasing tongue to his dick though. The only thing touching his member was his hot breath. “Don’t worry baby, I won’t suck you but...” His voice trailed off, he let his tongue speak for him. He flicked his tongue against the rim of his entrance and Bill squeaked. “You’re so fucking beautiful.. I wanna eat you out baby, can I?” He looked up at him with eyes darkened by lust. Bill cried out and whimpered, he loved the way Stanley looked at him like he was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. “Oh G-d.. Please!!!” Bill whimpered; and Stan admired the reaction a well placed dirty phrase had on him. “You taste so good everywhere darling, I can’t wait to taste you there too...”

Bill turned over, the new position was a bit uncomfortable but, what was to come would make it all worth it. He rubbed up against the sheets, Stanley was taking too long just looking at him, he needed to be touched. Stanley couldn’t believe how excited Bill was getting, rubbing against the sheets at the mere thought of Stan eating him out. Bill laid his face into the pillow as he waited, so patiently, so perfectly, Stanley noted. Bill finally got some satisfaction as he felt Stan’s hands spread him open, and felt his heavy gaze on his body. Stan’s cock throbbed at the sight, he was so damn pretty, especially like this. 

“So beautiful...” He complimented as he bent down, and licked a stripe from the dip of his back to his hole. He tasted the sweet saltiness of his skin, and the familiar taste that has been on his lips so many times that was all Bill’s own. He couldn’t get enough of him, ever. He lapped his tongue over his rim to steady him, relax him. He felt the muscles of his thighs and ass clench at the sudden intrusion. He plunged his tongue inside of him, past the ring of tight muscle and making him squirm. His low moans were muffled by the sound barrier of his pillow as he buried his face into it. His hands groped at his ass possessively, then soothingly as he felt Bill tense up when he went quicker. Bill could barely speak, it felt so damn good. 

Stan pulled his hair and his head up with it, “You’re going to make sounds for me.” He said, and Bill shuddered and murmured an apology cut off by a moan as Stan plunged his tongue back inside him. He arched his backs to meet the thrusts of his tongue, and Bill grunted at the feeling of Stanley’s hand sharply grabbing his thigh to remind him to maintain a slow pace. Stan was so turned on at the fact that Bill was fucking himself on his tongue, desperate for more. “You taste so good everywhere baby,” Stanley whispered against him, “I can’t believe I get you all to myself...” Bill sobbed heavy moans at the praises, uninterrupted by the pillow this time. 

“Please, Stan... fuck me!! Oh G-d...” Bill cried out, digging his fingernails into the palms of his hand as he needed to grab onto something, anything . He calmed himself, and used all his remaining will and brain power to try to keep from cumming. A few more thrusts of his tongue, and Stanley mused, “So fucking tight. You feel so great... I can’t wait to fuck you baby,” and Bill felt his heart soar at the praise. He loved knowing he was good. 

And Stan decided he couldn’t wait. 

He slicked his hole up with his spit, and grabbed some lube and spread it over his fingers. Pressing two in at once, knowing he could take it. He fingered him open, thrusting into him viciously just the way Bill liked. The only thing Bill could say was “Oh G-d.. Don’t stop!!”, as Stanley teased his prostate again and again. Stanley noticed how well Bill was doing, and wanted to see how he’d do with a third one without warning. Bill squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to accommodate to the new feeling. His breath became erratic as he did so. Stanley grunted, “You’re so tight.. fuck” was all he could think to say. He couldn’t wait to feel the familiar stretch around his dick when he fucked him for real. Holy shit. Bill mewled in response to the praise, clenching around Stan’s fingers as he went in deeper. 

“You look so good.. swallowing all my fingers up... do you think you could take a fourth one babydoll....” Stanley cooed in his ear, the hot breath ghosting over his skin was nearly too much for Bill to take. “Y-yes Stan.. please... I want it so bad...” Bill replied, barely understandable but Stanley knew him well enough to be able to tell exactly what he said. He slipped a 4th finger into him, and Bill squirmed. It hurt, but he loved to hurt. He loved that buzz of pain. He curled into his fingers in hopes that they would go in deeper, they were barely teasing his prostate from where they were now. Stanley laughed as Bill moaned, begging for him to go deeper and faster. “I’ll do you one better,” Stanley said, and Bills heart raced. He knew exactly what he meant and couldn’t wait for it. Stanley gradually took out his fingers, one by one. Bill whined at the sudden feeling of emptiness, and Stanley pressed kisses against the sensitive skin of his neck, wanting to drive him absolutely insane.

“Stan.... please...” Bill moaned out loudly, and Stanley was overtaken with love for him. He was so fucking beautiful. He was a panting mess underneath him, his lips red and swollen, his face stuck in perpetual pleasure as he begged. He was so pretty; and for his enjoyment only. Stanley didn’t obey, but obliged to Bill’s request. He held his shaky hips steady with one of his powerfully large hands, and held his face with the other had he joined their lips together. Stanley lined himself up with his stretched entrance. Bill kissed back passionately and messily as Stanley slid into him, moaning into his mouth as he did so. He bit Stan’s lip, mistaking it for his own; it felt so damn good he had to stop himself from cursing. Stanley grunted at the pain, which edged him on. His hand slipped from the hold on Bill’s flushed cheek, and down to his throat, gripping it harshly the way Bill loved so much. 

“Stan...” Bill groaned as his grip tightened. Stan had to try so hard to not choke him out, the thought of it almost made him come right then and there. The thought of him choking him into unconsciousness was his ultimate fantasy. It made him so painfully hard, Bill even felt him twitch against his thigh as he pulled all the way out, just to slam right back in again. But he suppressed it. He suppressed it for Bill. Bill was the only one he’d ever suppress it for. Because, Bill likes it rough, but not that rough. Stanley was very methodical and analytical, you don’t get to be where he is without being such a way. He knew that if he tried anything new, anything rougher- Bill could get an inkling of suspicion; or if not that.. something that could fester and develop into suspicion one day. 

“Oh Stan.. fuck... just like that,” He cried out as Stanley went faster without even being told to do so. Stan slipped a thumb into his parted lips, tracing them as he did so, loving the way it felt when he sucked on it. Bill took it into his mouth eagerly, drooling a bit as he moaned with his mouth forced open like that. He looked so pretty like that, he was such a mess- Stan couldn’t get enough of that pretty little mouth of his, and the sinful sounds that came from it. “Holy fuck angel... you’re so damn pretty...” Stan praised, knowing exactly what a slut he was for praise. He called him angel a lot, because he knew Bill was the closest to heaven he’d ever get. But, he looked so heavenly right now, all spread out for him like that, he felt pretty damn close to it. Bill grew lightheaded as Stan bottomed out, praising him as he took him in completely. Bill’s cock was painfully hard, and with Stanley’s hands preoccupied around his throat and on his hips, and his own hands tied submissively above his head to the headboard of their bed- no one was touching it. He whined, and Stanley ate every delicious sound he made up. 

“Want me to touch you, gorgeous?” And Bill moaned in reply. Bill pulled at his restraints harshly as Stanley sped up his thrusts, and timed his strokes to his thrusts. He tugged violently at them, causing his lips to bleed. Stanley knew he was a goner, the sight of Bill’s blood was so beautiful to him- the few times he got the luxury of seeing it. “Harder, harder, please!!!” Bill groaned loudly, and Stanley obliged. They were both going to cum soon, and they both knew it. Bill came to his release before Stanley did, as was routine for them. Bill’s eyes slammed shut as he came, moaning and panting as he came for the second time that night. He was so weak, he was so tired. Bill tightened around Stanley’s cock as he fucked himself on it through his orgasm, and that’s what sent Stanley over the edge. He groaned Bill’s name as he did so. Stan’s cum leaked out of him, and down his thighs as he pulled out of him. 

Bill laid there and tried to catch his breath, steady himself. After he caught his breath, and maintained some composure; while he couldn’t move his legs, he reached for the nightstand on his side of the bed, and ran his hand across the top. He was trying to find his files. His files he had from work, the files he went over again when he couldn’t sleep. Dead set and determined. A dead set and determination that Stanley found so attractive about Bill, even though he was unknowingly working so hard to catch him. Stanley couldn’t believe Bill hadn’t put the pieces together, glancing at the pages and pages of typed evidence neatly organized. A large section about how the killer would tie his victims up with white rope- the same white rope that was just around his wrists as Stanley fucked him. He couldn’t believe Bill was reading it, he read it and reread it every night as if it was a book, as if it wasn’t something that was real. He read it every night just to see if there was something he had missed the last night, something that could catch the serial killer. Little did he know, he was in bed next to him.

“Don’t read all that, right before you go to sleep... I want you to think happy things before you go to bed, baby,” Stanley cooed as he took the pages from him gently. He couldn’t help but give himself some kudos. There he was, holding the evidence that was going to send him to prison in his hand, and he didn’t even flinch. He really was a great actor, he had always thought so. He placed the stack of paper on the nightstand on his side of the bed, and ran a hand softly down Bill’s cheek, and then down his neck and down his naked chest. Bill sighed and lent into his touch like a cat, and Stanley couldn’t get over how cute he was. He loved Bill, he really did. He made such an effort to never get caught because of Bill. Maybe in a sick way, he thought that nothing would ever happen to him- and he’d never get caught, and he and Bill could live normally one day. They could get married, they already had the house, all it needed was a white picket fence. Maybe they could even adopt children one day, he had always wanted children with Bill. He could be the father he never had, and he knew Bill would be a great dad too. Stanley wanted that life more than anything. 

Bill mewled quietly, and closed his eyes. Stanley pulled him into his embrace, held him as he slept. “It feels so nice here,” Bill murmured quietly against Stanley’s chest, and Stanley continued running his hand soothingly through Bill’s ruffled hair, with his other arm lazily slumped over him, holding him close and keeping him there. While he lazily held him there, it was still very possessive, domineering. “I feel so safe in your arms Stan....” The irony in that statement almost made Stanley laugh, his arms were the most dangerous place in the entire town. 

“Never let me go...” Was all Bill had left to say, and fell asleep with a tender smile and faint blush on his cheeks, still as smitten with Stanley as the day he had met him. Stanley smiled at that, he smiled more than he should’ve. Bill just had a quality that made him swoon, no matter what the papers wrote about him, he did have a soft spot for somebody, and that somebody was Bill. “I love you, Bill,” Stanley said, even though he probably couldn’t hear him anymore, “Too much...” Stanley trailed off, and even though Bill hadn’t heard him, even if he had, he’d never truly understand the extent of what he meant. Stan would do anything for Bill, honestly and truly. In his mind, he murdered so that Bill could walk free; he was boyfriend of the year- if you asked him. He was happy to have that kind of love for him though. It was him and Bill against the world; Bill just didn’t know to what extent to yet. And he pressed a kiss on his sleeping beauty’s forehead, just because he could. Just because he loved him. 

Just because he’d always love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from serial killer by lana del rey
> 
> maybe one of these days my story titles won’t be from a song...
> 
> kudos and comments appreciated and adored <3  
> love you!


	2. thrill of the rush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: gonna put a detailed warning, the last chapter didn’t go into detail about the murder, but this one does. so if that upsets you, maybe skip this chapter. not that it’s SUPER particularly graphic anyways; especially considering that the character’s source material is a story about a clown that kills and eats children lol, this is tame by comparison
> 
> or, read up to the glitter line break if you’re just here for the smut haha

The night was quiet, lulled and unstirred. Boring, quite frankly. Stanley sat in the living room alone, waiting for Bill to get home from work. He wondered what was taking him so long, he was growing more irritable as the minutes ticked by. He was very far from being a patient person. He sat there, tense now. He tapped his foot on the hardwood floor under his feet to pass the time, like a metronome ticking in tune with his boredom. He read the same page in his book over and over again, hoping it would capture his attention over and over again, but never did. He paid no attention to the tv that was turned on in the room, serving as nothing more than background noise and light that danced on the walls that he also wasn’t paying attention to. His mind wasn’t there, he was thinking about Bill. He really missed Bill, and he laughed in folly at that. He didn’t even know why he missed him so much, he had literally just seen him that morning. Bill and himself were grown adults, they went to work every day, and came home to each other day. 

But today felt different, and he couldn’t explain why. He missed him more today, the minutes went by slower. He didn’t even have a reason for him to want to hurry home. He had no great dinner planned for them, he had no willing or witty anecdote from work to tell him, it was a very ordinary day. He just missed Bill’s company. The house felt warmer with him in it, he was freed from the cold presence of his thoughts that permeated in his mind when he was alone. Bill made him feel human, he made him feel alive. In all of Stanley’s 30 years, only one person had ever touched him the way Bill had. He cared for Bill. He wanted him to be happy, he wasn’t indifferent towards his emotions. He even went out of his way to do things to make him happy- a concept totally foreign to Stanley. His kindness wasn’t a common courtesy, or a front to blend in or seem normal, a front to give him a cover story or a carefully constructed alibi. He cared for Bill. He loved Bill. Bill made him entertain the thought of being a better person, some of the little nice things he did even rubbed off on him too. 

The other day, for example, he held the door open for someone at the coffee shop by his office for no reason. That was all Bill’s impact! Because yes, Stanley was a very nice person- but only for the sake of appearances. He was a nice person, because he wanted people to think he was so. But that wasn’t how Bill was, he was nice by nature- and Stanley entertained the thought of becoming that way too, only because kindness was so cute on Bill. Maybe Stanley was biased, but Bill was truly the greatest person Stanley had ever known him. He loved him, he loved him so much. His world revolved around him, and he would gladly do anything for him- even if that meant making someone else’s world stop spinning. 

Maybe he loved him too much. Maybe his love for him would be his downfall. Stanley wouldn’t mind that though, he would do whatever he had to do to keep Bill around- to keep his hands off Bill. It was tempting to do, sure. To give into his fantasies of seeing the light leave Bill’s eyes forever- but he would never do that. The cons largely outweighed the pros there; and Stan was man of logic above all else. Because once those fantasies became reality, Bill would be gone forever- and Stan couldn’t live in a world without Bill. It was interesting to him that both trains of thought could exist in the same person. His complexities impressed even himself. 

It was a dark world out there, and Stanley had to be mean, he had to be evil. He had to keep the little world he had built safe. He wanted to keep Bill safe. 

Stanley sat there, deep in thought. Waiting for Bill to come home, he finally heard Bill’s car pull into the driveway. His heart raced, and cursed his giddiness. He was giddy to see Bill, and he felt like a child; almost humiliating even though nobody knew it but him. Stanley straightened in his seat and closed the book he wasn’t focussed on and set it on the coffee table. He heard Bill open and close the door, take his shoes off and hang his coat up. 

“Hi Stan,” Bill called out so Stan would be able to hear him no matter where he was in the house. Stanley’s heart hurt at the tone, he sounded sad, troubled. Like something was weighing on him. Stan hoped that he hadn’t had a bad day at work, but he knew that good days down at the station were few and far between. Bill hated it there some days, and Stanley hated his coworkers with a burning passion for making him hate it there so much. Bill’s smile was truly, the most beautiful thing Stanley had ever seen; and so help him- they would pay dearly for taking it away time and time again. Stanley couldn’t help it, he was a man in love. Bill’s happiness was his happiness, so naturally, his sadness was also his sadness. And taking people out of the picture that caused him problems was how he dealt with things. 

“Hey baby, I’m in the living room.” He said cheerfully, but not overly cheerful. He hoped that maybe if he sounded a bit happier, he’d feel more at ease- but not a fake happiness. Bill strolled into the living room, a faint smile on his lips when he saw Stanley. The smile was forced, though. Not because he wasn’t happy to see his boyfriend, but because of the aurora of sadness that surrounded him. He was trying to pretend that he was fine, but he couldn’t. Whatever was weighing on his mind was far too heavy. 

Even in his stupor, he was still effortlessly attractive. His hair was bemused and slightly disheveled from how Stanley had remembered him styling it this morning. It gave him a slight devil may care look to his otherwise tidy and neat appearance. The light caught the gold hardware of his badge, “Det. Denbrough,” it read. And Stanley hoped that he never slipped up, or made any mistakes so one day they could be married- and hopefully the badge would one day read Uris instead. Putting aside the high likelihood that they wouldn’t recognize the name change, as they would fail to agree with the supreme court and wouldn’t recognize a gay marriage as a real marriage- he could still dream. He could dream of their cute life together. 

The way Bill’s shirt creased as he walked pulled him out of his daydreams though, and pulled his attention back to the featured star of them. The blue button up shirt of his uniform shirt was unbuttoned by 2 buttons, seeming to ask for attention- asking for you to wonder what lay behind the blue cloth that clung to him in all the right places. And his tight black dress pants cling to his hips, and covered every crease of the muscles of his thighs beautifully. And the sheen of the metal on his belt caught his eye, the familiar glimmer of the handcuffs that were so pretty around his wrists. Handcuffs that weren’t just used on the criminals he arrested. He was so fucking hot, and he wasn’t even fucking trying. Stan couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into him. 

“Is something the matter honey?” Stanley asked, moving over so Bill could sit next to him. Instead though, he sat in his lap and collapsed in his arms. Stanley hugged him tight, but said no more. Sometimes, Bill didn’t like to talk things out, and that was his process. He just liked to be held, and feel a comforting presence rather than hear comforting words. They sat like that for a while, Stanley whispering sweet nothings in his ear, accompanied by soothing hands over his back and through his hair. Stanley could hear Bill start to cry as he traced the muscles of his back soothing. Sometimes Bill’s process wasn’t always silent. Sometimes the burden of his thoughts were so heavy that not even he could bear them anymore. Those times, he would reach a well deserved breaking point after burying and repressing so much. He supposed now might be one of those times. 

“Oh Stanley... work was awful,” He sobbed, sniffling as he spoke. Stanley trembled in anger and he hoped Bill hadn’t noticed. His hand grew shaky against Bill’s skin. How dare someone hurt Bill like this, make him feel like this. Stanley hated every single one of his coworkers with a burning passion, and bit his tongue and held back his anger every time Bill complained about them. But this time, this was different. Bill had never cried like this before. Bill had never been this hurt. And in that moment, he knew. He knew that it had been one horrible work story too many, and that he was about to reach his breaking point. And whatever Bill was about to tell him, would be that breaking point. 

“It’s always awful,” Bill still sobbed, barely even understandably into Stan’s shoulder, pulling him tighter, needing to feel the comfort of his touch, of his closeness. “What happened?” Stanley asked, trying with everything in him to mask the anger in his voice, he clenched his jaw and tried his best. He was angry, but not at Bill. Never at Bill, he couldn’t be mad at Bill even if he tried. He was mad at that awful fucking force. First, they make his work life miserable, and then they put him on a task force that unknowingly made him look for ways to catch him. If Bill ever were to find out- he’d turn against him. And it would be all their fucking fault. 

“W-well, they’re really slacking on trying to catch the killer that’s on the loose, you know. The Barrens Butcher? Just because he hasn’t been active in a couple months,” Bill caught him up to speed as if he wasn’t living with him, and had no clue what he was talking about. Stanley didn’t say anything though, he just nodded and let him continue. Bill looked up at him with big, helpless blue eyes that were stained with tears. His heart hurt so bad, it ached to see him like this. He took a mental picture of that, so he would always know that whatever he was going to do to somehow make things better for Bill, whoever he’d have to hurt, would all be worth it. It would all be so, so worth it if it meant that he would never have to see Bill look this sad again. 

“Well- I go up to Chief Gordon and I say, ‘Hey, just because the killer hasn’t struck in a couple months, doesn’t mean he’s disappeared or is no longer a threat. You can’t slack on this, the blood will be on your h-hands,” Bill explained, choking back tears as he spoke to try and make his point more cohesive and understandable. “So then he says, ‘If you think I’m gonna take advice from a sissy like you, you can go to hell’, and all the fucking officers laugh their asses off at that one, as they always so. And whatever, I get called sissy, fag, whatever the fuck in that precinct all damn day- I couldnt give a shit. But, I’m not gonna take that. Or at least, today I wasnt gonna take that. I was already in a bad mood. So I say,... I say... I s-say..” Stanley could tell it was getting harder for him to continue. 

“What did you say, sweetheart?” Stanley asked, steadying him. Bill relaxed just a bit. “I say, ‘You might not let the papers know it, but we all know damn well I solve all the cases in this town, so you’d do well to take some advice from me,’' And Stanley felt a moment of pride in his stomach, dancing with the powerful feeling of rage that festered there too. He was so happy to know his boyfriend was learning to stand up for himself, he knew it was hard, and he knew Bill struggled with doing stuff like that. Bill was a natural born leader, plain and simple. He always did things to keep the peace, to not rock the boat- and unfortunately that often meant sacrifices on his own part. Which broke Stanley’s heart to see, which is why he often stepped in and made things more fair, or tipped the scales in Bill's favour, to level the playing field since Bill obviously wasn’t going to do it himself. 

“I’m so proud of you baby, I know that the story doesn’t end well, but I’m so glad you said something like that. You’re so strong, baby,” He cooed, and Bill’s sobs got a little less loud. He muttered a sincere thank you, and pressed a kiss to Stan’s cheek as he continued. He took his place against Stan's chest as he continued, it made it harder for him to follow along with what he was saying but he was happy Bill felt safe there. “And then he- and then he.. he-“ He broke down crying and sobbed into Stanley’s chest, clutching at his strong arms with all he had. He needed to feel some comfort, some protection. He needed the subtle reassurance that was implied in his touch, he needed to know that that wouldn’t have happened if Stan had been there. Stanley held him, and let him cry. He let him get all his emotions out, all his emotions that he knew had been pent out for sometime. He knew Bill’s queues, and he knew that it wasn’t his turn to speak yet- so he didn’t patronize him by trying. He let him cry, and grabbed the box of tissues off the coffee table near them, and wiped his lovers eyes. Bill muttered a thank you, and Stan kissed his temple softly, his way of saying ‘Don’t mention it.’. 

“He punched me in the stomach. In the break room, in front of everyone. I fucking fell on the ground t-too. It wasn’t even that it hurt. It just took me by such surprise. They’ve called me every name in the book and made me feel like shit in every way possible, but they’ve never got me before.” Bill sobbed, his words stabbing Stanley in the heart like daggers as they left his lips. Stanley hadn’t recalled a time in his life where he had been this mad, this hurt. His heart shattered at the thought of Bill having to go through this. His mouth grew dry, he had no idea what he could say. His muscles tensed, anger surged through his veins and he was quite literally seeing red. He couldn’t imagine, Bill trying to get back to his feet as his incompetent coworkers laughed at his expense- if he had it his way, they’d all be gone. They were a waste of the breath they took in order to laugh. 

Bill sniffled, “It was the most humiliating day of my life, and what can I even do??? I can’t call the cops on him!! We are the fucking cops!!!! I hate this fucking town, Stan!!!” And Stanley thought for a moment, he thought about what to say. Bill held him a little bit less tight, he was done with telling his story, that was one of Bill’s queues that Stanley had learned over the years to tell him it was his turn to speak. His turn to comfort him, even the stoic and strong Bill Denbrough needed to be comforted every now and then. Stanley was just happy he was who he turned to for that. 

“How did it end?” Stanley asked, thinking that that would give him an indication on what to say, what state that Bill and his coworkers had left things. “It didn’t, really. That happened about half an hour before it was time to leave. Some of the task force was asked to stay behind to work late tonight, I was not. But, they’re working again so at least there’s that... It’s my fucking task force though.” Bill answered. Stanley hugged him tight, and held him there. Bill felt a bit better, he felt like things could be okay. “I’m so sorry baby, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry you have to go through that, and I’m so sorry that all your coworkers are terrible. I’m so sorry you feel stuck. I hate that for you, I hate to see you like this. I love you so much, more than anything. You deserve so much better, you deserve so much better than this.” Stanley spoke, and Bill whimpered out that he loved him too. Stanley stroked his hands down his back as Bill nestled more comfortably in his lap. 

“I don’t even know what to say. Like, that’s just so fucked up. I don’t even know what to offer as advice.” And Bill struggled to smile, but did so anyways. “Don’t feel like you have to say anything. I just wanted to feel heard. Thank you for listening.” Bill reassured, and curled up against Stan. But Stan didn’t like that, he couldn’t live with himself if that’s all he did. He needed to make this better for Bill, he needed to make that all go away. Stanley held his hand in his, and kissed it softly as Bill recovered in his arms. He pressed a gentle kiss gingerly to each of his knuckles, wishing with every fibre of his being that Bill would soon be happy again. It broke his black heart to see Bill, his reason for existing, to be so sad. It made his blood fucking boil.

They stayed like that, in silence for a while. Bill regrouped and was trying his best to recover, and Stan left him to his thoughts. Bill worked better that way, he liked to keep his thoughts to himself- as sharing them only slowed him down. It made him feel vulnerable and weak, if anything. Stanley could tell that he was done talking about it. It hurt too much. 

“I wish there was something I could do, though,” Stanley said with a heavy sigh, a sigh almost as heavy as his heart. He did have something he could do, but it wouldn’t be something he could ever let Bill in on. though. Bill laughed, “I know how you could make me feel better,” Bill whispered against his neck, rubbing his knee teasingly against Stanley’s clothed member. 

Stanley let out a low chuckle at his eagerness. He flipped them over effortlessly, “Is that so hmm... what did you have in mind?” He asked, faking his obliviousness. Bill’s assertiveness melted away at the teasing touch of his boyfriend’s hands, carefully running up and down his clothed chest. “I.. Don’t make me say it..” He grew timid, and Stanley has always found his shyness so adorable. “Well, if you don’t want to say it, I won’t know it... so I guess I won’t be able to do anything to you,” He spoke, as he unbuttoned one of the buttons on his uniform painfully slow. 

Bill nibbles on his bottom lip as he answered, “I want you to... fuck me.. make me forget about my bad day.. please...” He begged timidly, and Stanley pressed a kiss to his neck, “See baby, that’s all you had to say...” He reached behind him to the end table next to the couch they currently laid on. He opened the drawer and felt around for a bottle of lube that he knew was there. Once he found it, he showed it to Bill promisingly, “We’re gonna need this for later...” and Bill groaned in excitement.

Stanley quickly started to undress Bill, who’s heartbeat thumped in anticipation. His heart rate accelerated with every button that came undone, exposing his cool chest to the warm air of the room, and his boyfriend’s loving gaze. Stanley eyed him with increasing hunger at every inch of tantalizing skin that was exposed. He quickly undid the rest of the buttons on the carefully pressed blue shirt of his uniform. He took it off and threw it to the floor. Bill mewled as he felt the cold air of the room against his chest, against his nipples that had already started to get hard- due to the temperature and his increasing arousal. Stanley made his way from the crook of his neck to his collarbones, sucking hazy love bites into his waiting skin. His skin was beautifully pale, an off white colour that begged to be marked up. 

Bill shuddered in the painful pleasure of his boyfriend’s teeth and lips against his skin. “Stan,” Was all he could muster to murmur, he couldn’t wait to be touched by him, calling out his name was basically a subtle beg for him to touch him more. Stan kissed a love bite he had left on his chest as he kissed his way down to his nipples. He took one between his fingers and the other between his parted lips. He rolled his fingers over the bud, teasing it, before pinching it between his fingers. He repeated this for a while, amused at how sensitive Bill was. He flicked his tongue over the other, and took it between his teeth and bit it gingerly, gradually increasing how hard he did as Bill begged louder. 

Bill ran his hands through Stan’s messy curls, and slightly tugged when the pleasure of Stan’s tongue and his fingers grew too much for him. The heavenly feeling of the harsh pull reminded him of the handcuffs attached to the belt on his boyfriend’s slender waist, that were begging to be used. Bill was too preoccupied to notice them missing, and to hear them clink as they were locked around his wrists. Bill noticed his hands handcuffed above his head and he whimpered, biting his lip and tilting his head to the side, hoping the extras gestures would add to his erotically vulnerable look and get Stan to pick up his pace a little. 

Stan was no idiot, he could tell exactly what Bill was trying to do, but too turned on beyond belief to care. Stanley took off his own shirt and watched Bill’s half lidded eyes spark alive with lust at the skin revealed to him. Stan didn’t even bother asking him if he liked what he saw, because he knew he did. 

“Look at you... such a mess already,” Stanley spoke against Bill’s skin, as he ran his hands down his body. Bill curled into his touch, wanting to feel as much as possible. “So pretty... you’re so fucking pretty like this,” His breath was cool against Bill’s clothed cock, strained against his work slacks. Bill moaned at the sudden praise, with a bashfulness that stained his cheeks; it made him look even prettier. “You’re so eager already...” Stan purred, and Bill looked away out of a bit of embarrassment at how true the statement was. He was turned on beyond belief. He now winced at the strain his pants were against his member, and Stan’s face so close to him there wasn’t helping. “Such a slut…” Stan said with a smirk, and Bill didn’t dare dispute it, he just mewled in agreement, liking how degradation felt coming from him. This was helping him forget the awful day he’d had.

He knew this wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism but… if it works, it works right? The way he saw things, he could stress eat, or pick up smoking. At least this was better for his health.

“S-Stan.... take them off...” He asked, said more like a plea than a demand. Stan did as he was told, and undid the button of his pants, and bit his lip as did so to hold back a moan of his own. Bill was looking at him with such anticipated lust, his normally clear blue eyes were clouded with lust. He took the zipper of his pants between his teeth, and pulled, the tip of his nose grazing against the zipper. Stan pulled his pants down, inch by inch, so very slowly; Bill whimpered, biting at his lip to steady himself. One of those whimpers, caught his attention more than the others did; and turned the spark of lust inside him into a fire. He gave him exactly what he wanted, he pulled his pants all the way off his legs, and took his boxers off with them. Bill groaned as he was suddenly completely exposed, relishing in the way his lover eyed his body. Stan eyed him up and down, he was so hot without even trying. Stan took him into his mouth without any warning, and Bill yelped at the sudden feeling. Stan looked at him through his eyelashes and deep throated him, he swallowed around his length and Bill couldn’t even try to contain his moans anymore. 

“St-Stan.. oh shit.. just like that... please...” He breathed, looking away from the sight of his boyfriend between his legs because he knew that would be too much for him. He was already starting to get close to cumming, and he knew that wouldn’t help. Stanley noticed this, and stopped. He released him from his mouth, and Bill whined in desperation. “Look at me. Look at me while I suck you off,” He said against the skin of his thighs, punctuating his words with wet kisses to his skin. He sucked lovebites into his skin lazily to get his point across on the areas of skin his lips lingered on. Bill muttered out a yes. 

Stan ghosted a hot breath against his length, teasing him as he shuddered. He licked a long stripe from the base of his cock to the tip on the underside of his member, already so hard and eager. Stan took him back into his mouth, not breaking the eye contact; he loved watching Bill’s face light up in prolonged anticipation. He loved watching his face contorted in pleasure as he took him into his mouth again. He wasn’t as sloppy or quick as before, drawing out low moans as he worked his cock slowly. He slowly swirled his tongue around his length, dipping his tongue into the slit teasingly every so often. Bill really wished his hands weren’t restrained. He wanted to put his hands in his beautiful curls and fuck his sinfully beautiful mouth over and over again. But he couldn’t, so for now he’d have to be fine with the teasing pace at which he was going. 

“Mhmm.. Stan.. st-stop teasing me...” Bill said through strained whimpers, desperate want as evident as ever in his low voice. “But baby.. I love to tease you,” He said with fake innocence, “I love to get you like this.. so pretty when you beg,” His innocence was gone as quickly as it came, and Bill whined at how nice the vibrations of his voice sounded against his member. “Please Stan... please suck me... and then after fuck me with your hard cock and make me t-take it all..” That got Stanley all riled up, and groaned against Bill’s cock, but that wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. He was looking for a specific word, rather than a well placed dirty phrase. 

“Oh please daddy!!” Bill moaned, knowing that’s what he was wanting. And that was exactly it, that was what turned Stan on more than almost anything else. Bill calling him that, sent him further into lust more so than anything. Stan moaned at how delicious it sounded coming from his lips. He engulfed him in the wet heat of his mouth, and scraped his teeth ever so gently down his member, just how he knew his baby boy liked it. Bill started to wiggle his hips so Stan would go deeper, Stan almost found his eager greediness amusing, endearing. He wanted it so badly, he was so desperate. Bill was too distracted by the volume of his own moans escaping his lips to hear the sound of the half used bottle of lube creak open, and have its contents poured onto 3 of his boyfriend’s fingers. He slid his pointer finger into him without any warning or prep. Bill moaned at the feeling of being stretched. It felt good, but not nearly close enough to satisfy. 

Stan held his hips down so hard it hurt, and Bill moaned at the delicious pain. “Stay still for daddy, baby, or else he’s gonna stop,” and he stopped his hips immediately, moaning as Stan deepthroated him further, a reward for listening. “Daddy.. daddy, I’m almost there,” He yelled, and Stan pulled off of Bill’s cock and kissed him. The kiss was hungry, the kiss was sloppy and passionate. Bill lapped up the taste of precum with his tongue. Stanley always thought it was so arousing that he liked the taste of himself that much. Stanley pulled their lips apart, and whispered in his ear, “How badly do you want daddy to fuck you, doll?” He asked in a low, voice. Bill couldn’t help but laugh to himself at the cliche nature of that phrase, and cursed himself for being as turned on as he was by it. So, he played along. It was nice to be dominated like this after a long day, surrendering to him completely took his mind off of everything troubling him. 

“So badly, daddy.... more than anything...” Stanley took his earlobe between his teeth and bit at it lightly, a contrast to his voice which was anything but light. “And how do you want daddy to fuck you?” Adding another to his greedy hole, Stan tried to fight back a groan, he was so fucking tight and he couldn’t wait to stretch him with the real thing. “So, so hard daddy. I want you to make me hurt!!” Stan raked his teeth against the sensitive skin of his neck, his breath felt like heaven again his flesh. Stanley slid another finger into Bill, teasing his prostate with every thrust. Bill clenched around his fingers and bit his lip, it felt so unbelievably good. But it would feel a lot better if he was being fucked by his member instead. “Make me take it all, daddy. Fill me up with your cock, I want your milk so badly, -ah! daddy-“ He cut himself off with a high pitched moan as Stan sunk his teeth into his neck. The absolute filth of that phrase momentarily threw him and took him out of his dominant role, “Holy fuck... Bill,” rather than calling him an endearing, petname that he was so used to during sex. He couldn’t help it though, something so deliciously filthy would awe anyone. 

Stanley took off his pants and his boxers, letting his hard cock spring free of its cloth prison. Stanley worked more of the lube onto his member and aligned himself with Bill’s hole, he slid into him slowly, and filled him to brim. Bill whined, it felt even better than he thought that it would, it was so worth all the wait. “So good for me baby, yah, that’s it, take it all...” He praised as he slid in deep. “You feel so good baby,” He continued. He was completely buried in Bill, and enjoyed the sight and feeling of his cock completely disappearing in him. Stan set a fast pace as he thrust in and out of Bill, intoxicated by his moans and pleas. 

“Faster daddy, please!! I can take it-“ was the only coherent and cohesive sentence he could string together. Stan dug his fingers even deeper into Bill’s hips, undoubtedly leaving marks where his fingers lay. Bill wanted more than anything to run his fingers down his back, and leave marks on him as well. Stan whispered dirty praises against his skin as he buried his face in the crook of Bill’s neck, leaving lovebites there for the last time that night. He was slowly losing his rhythm as he was quickly approaching his undoing. The sound of skin on skin joined their symphony of moans beautifully. “Daddy!! I’m so close, I-'' He interrupted himself with his climax. Stan fucked him through his orgasm and it sent pleasure throughout his whole body in the form of shockwaves. He felt so good. Stanley wasn’t far behind him, and finished as Bill clenched around his cock as he was riding through the aftershock of his high. 

“You’re so good for daddy, sweetheart,” He praised as he came inside him, which was one of Bill’s favourite feelings in the world. Stanley pulled out of him after a few minutes, not wanting to leave his lover. He kissed Bill’s cheeks, and Bill smiled for the first time that night. “I love you, Stanley,” He admitted thankfully, his voice hoarse from moaning. “I love you, Bill, you’re so good..” He spoke, going back to normal. 

Bill yawned, and arched his back to crack his spine as he laid there and tried to get comfortable. “Tired?” Stanley asked, and Bill nodded, and laughed a bit. “It would feel weird to go to sleep at only 8:30,” and Stanley smiled, “Rest baby, you’ve had a hard day,” Stanley said, pulling a throw blanket over him. Bill spoke, his eyelids were heavy and it was hard to stay awake. He was emotionally drained, and tired too. “But, I don’t wanna sleep by myself tonight,” Bill whispered, his voice hazy as sleep started to overtake him. “Not without you...” He whined. Stanley didn't want to object, but he had to. He had… business to attend to, he’d decided.

“I’ll come and carry you to bed when I go to sleep, okay?” He asked calmly, running a comforting hand through his messy hair and Bill felt warm and in love. Calmness coming to him for the first time that day. Stan had phrased it as a question, but it was more so telling him what he was going to do. Bill closed his eyes, letting that show his contentment. Stan watched him fall asleep, protectively in case he needed anything for a few minutes. He admired him like he was a painting in a museum. Intently and in awe. He admired the way his cheeks were still flushed, and his hair was messy, his lips still slightly swollen, and his long eyelashes that fluttered shut as he closed his eyes to sleep. Stanley got off of the couch to let him be after awhile, Bill opened his eyes and said one more thing, which took Stanley a bit off guard as he thought he had fallen asleep. 

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

“I can’t wait to catch him, Stan. They’ll finally take me seriously, they won’t call me a queer anymore” And Stanley’s heart broke, because little did he know, he hadn’t just caught him- he had just made him cum twice. He was sharing a bed with the killer, not only a bed- but a whole house, a whole life. Stanley almost wanted to confess to Bill so he could turn him in, just so Bill could finally be a hero- finally get the respect he deserved at work. But, the key word there was almost. “I hope you do too, baby,” Stanley spoke, that’s all he could think to say.

He pushed Bill to go to sleep, for two reasons. The first being, he needed his rest. He was so tired lately, he was always a bit on edge, and he was never present, never in the moment. His mind was always on something else, his mind was always on that investigation of his. But also, because he was going to put an end to this once and for all. He was so mad, he was beyond angry. And making Stanley mad, was a pretty big mistake. He had had his patience tested for far too long, and this was the last straw. Stanley had one rule, and that rule was something he very much took to heart; it was his moral code. It was the only rule he followed every single time. No one, ever, hurt Bill and lived to do it again. 

And it pained Stanley that he couldn’t have honoured this rule soon enough. He could honour it when it was a criminal who exhibited disorderly conduct while Bill arrested him, he could honour it was a university professor who gave him a terrible mark on a paper that he had spent hours writing, he could honour it in any other circumstance. But for so long, he always cautioned himself against taking out Bill’s boss, Chief of Police John Gordon. Because he was so close, he, or even Bill would be looked at straight away- as it was no secret that he hated Bill more than anyone else on the force. But, he had had enough. He was better now. He was more experienced, it didn’t matter how close he was. He wouldn’t get caught, he couldn’t get caught. And if he was caught, he’d kill who caught him. He couldn’t handle Bill coming home upset again, he couldn’t. 

His heart hurt just thinking about it. And as far as Stanley was concerned, if you could be so mean to someone so wonderful, you didn’t deserve to live anyways. He didn’t deserve to share a planet with Bill, if he wasn’t going to appreciate him; and that’s how he approached most situations. 

Stanley waited around, pacing through the house and thinking of a plan on how he was going to do this. He waited until he was sure Bill was asleep, he waited around the house for an hour or so. Bill was a very heavy sleeper though, so he knew he could move around and pace as he thought. He thought best on his feet. Stan decided to stay in the same clothes that he had on, and he’d change into his pyjamas when he got home, so Bill wouldn’t become suspicious when he saw Stan in different clothes than the ones he had remembered being in before he went to sleep. He was so excited, tonight’s events had been a very, very long time coming. 

Stanley took the long way to Derry’s police station. He wanted to enjoy every minute of this. He didn’t want it to happen too soon, to pass him by. He wanted to enjoy this, as Chief Gordon could unfortunately, only die once. Stanley fiddled with the knife in his jacket pocket, running his finger over the blade to test its sharpness. The edges of the knife tantalized him, and his mind wandered to the specifics of he’d carry out his plan. Where he’d stab him first, and he wondered how satisfying fear would look on his face. Stanley had known from experience that those stupid task force meetings usually took 2-3 hours. It was 9:00 then, so he figured in about half an hour from then that he’d be done, and he could catch him in the parking lot. He had remembered Bill saying that he was always the last to leave. Stanley hoped he would be just like his habits- and die hard. He was sure he’d be a creature of habit, and still he the last one out, so he could get him alone; but it was still good to have a little hope on your side. 

The night was clear, and the stars showed through the night sky untainted by clouds. It had been raining for about a week in Derry up until that day, it was almost as if the universe knew. Stan took that as a good sign, like the universe was in his side; it was almost as if the clouds opened up- that this was a good thing. He already knew he was doing the world a favour, but this just confirmed the universe shared the same sentiment. He drove through town, and all the familiar winding roads were the same; but there was something different about this drive. He felt different about it, he felt excited. He felt excited to help Bill, to show him just how much he loved him; even though Bill wouldn’t be able to know the full extent, or even know that it was him at all quite frankly. He was giddy as he pulled into the parking lot. 

There was only one visible light in the building, indicating that whoever was left, was going to be leaving very soon. Stanley was as punctual as always. He parked his car, in the very back, far from the light illuminating from the flickering lamp posts that were in desperate need of repair. He watched the main doors of the station for a while, he shifted in his seat to get comfortable- he would wait there as long as it took. He laughed to himself arrogantly that he was going to commit a murder in the parking lot of a police station. 

He thought about what he was going to do as he waited. He was going to kill and was completely detached from that. He was the farthest removed from reality that he had ever been, if he had ever been at all. He’d gotten a bit better at controlling his impulses though, his sick needs. He’d been so good, he’d been so good lately. There hadn’t been a dead body, or a disappearance in over 3 months. 3 months, 10 days, 6 hours. Stanley even kept track of the days, that’s how hard this was for him. He was trying so hard for Bill, he wanted to be the kind of boyfriend Bill deserved. He didn’t want to have to lie to him anymore. He wanted there to be complete and total honesty, and he was always honest, except for this, regrettably huge part of his life. Bill deserved a nice, normal boyfriend. 

A nice normal boyfriend who didn’t lie to him about his whereabouts- who didn’t commit murders. But, Bill also deserved to be happy, and Stanley had promised to always keep him happy. And this was the only way Stanley knew how to make him happy, to eliminate the problem once and for all. 

Finally, after exactly 23 minutes of waiting, yes Stanley was keeping track- and he was only made more angry by the long wait time, he had finally come out of the building, and locked the door behind him. Stanley knew they were totally alone, as nobody could come in or out of the building anymore. Stanley got out of the car, and locked the door behind him. He was careful not to make a sound, hoping the element of surprise would be on his side. He walked over to him, calmly. Intent not evident in his expressions or his mannerisms. Chief Gordon, noticed him now. 

“Hey, hey you!” He called out, and Stanley looked around sarcastically, as if he was confused. “I know you know I’m talking to you, you’re the only one here, fucker. Get your ass over here,” He yelled out into the dark, trying to sound threatening and wasn’t at all succeeding. Stanley would make him wait, and he reached him eventually at a gingerly pace. “What’s the big idea about you being out here? Why the fuck are you even out here. What the fuck is wrong with you.” Stanley didn’t speak, he didn’t move, just kept his hand in his pocket on his knife cautiously. He grew annoyed at the lack of response, “Do I even know you from anywhere?” He squinted at him, trying to put a face to the name, when suddenly it came to him. 

“Hey wait, yah I do know you.. You’re Denbrough’s little husband huh? That jew in the pictures on his desk, that’s you.” He said with an obnoxious laugh that made Stanley want to cease all the pleasantries and just kill him, but he had to scare him a little bit, maybe lull him into a false sense of security. But that obnoxious fucking laugh that made hyenas sound like a symphony orchestra was making that pretty damn hard. “Yes… I am, ‘that jew’,” Stanley replied snidely, fuck, did he hate this guy. “And you’re John Gordon, chief of police, unfortunately. Still can’t believe you’ve held that title as long as you have considering you’re so fucking incompetent it took you about 15 minutes to figure out how to lock that fucking door.” Stanley spoke smoothly, not hinting at the truth nature of his feelings and his being there yet. 

“Hey! If you think I’m gonna let Detective Denbrough’s pansy little boyfriend try and get in my face and intimidate me. You’re dead wrong. Treat me a little better, don’t speak to me like that.” He spat, trying to establish dominance in the conversion that was never his to start with. “I don’t owe you any respect so I won’t address you with any.” Stanley said flatly, anger in his voice now. He walked towards him, slowly but noticeably. Gordon saw the sinister look in his eyes, he was scared now. Stanley noticed his change in demeanour and relished in it. Adrenaline rushed through his veins now. He was in his element. He shivered at the smile as Stanley spoke, and backed away in the direction that Stanley wanted him to. It was almost too perfect, everything was falling into place. “Why.. why are you here, at this time of night anyways,” He asked, Stanley noticed that his voice wasn’t as argumentative anymore, and wasn't as sharp with confrontation. 

“Nobody talks to my boyfriend, the way you do, John.” Stanley said calmly, his words low and spoken slowly, as if he had all night. He was calm and in no rush. “I don’t allow it.” Stanley spoke again, inching closer to him. “How I’ve allowed you to get away with it for so long... is beyond me.”. John Gordon wasn’t only taken aback by the use of his first name, hardly anyone ever had the nerve to refer to him by that alone. But also, the look in Stanley’s eyes as he spoke. It was haunting, and he was ashamed to say it made the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he was under the heavy gaze. He could tell he was being led away from the security camera frame, but he didn’t want to call that into question; he didn’t want Stanley to know he was as scared as he was. Stanley wasn’t a scary looking man by any means, he was of average height and very good looking by most standards- but he could elicit fear if he wanted to; he had his ways of being intimidating. “You.. you better back away from me right now..” He spoke again, his voice regrettably shaking in fear as the situation was dawning on him. “Why? I don’t understand why you’re so nervous. We’re just talking,” Stanley spoke, the tone of his voice unchanging even though the others was being dismantled by fear. 

John was scared now, his eyes were wide with fear, and Stanley only wished Bill was here to see this. He enjoyed this for the both of them. Every slur, every prank, every threat, Stanley hoped that John knew it was not worth it. He was a horrible man, and Stanley knew that whatever his depraved mind came up with, would be a great fate for him. He didn’t deserve anything peaceful, he didn’t deserve to leave this world with dignity. Stanley laughed, a sick laugh that John guessed was to melt tension as he felt himself be backed away from the security cameras, his only hope for justice as there were no other witnesses. 

“Don’t look at me like that, we’re just talking. Stop looking at me like I’m going to hurt you. Because I’m not, I’m not going to hurt you,” Stan spoke, and he could see relief wash over his face subtly, his shoulders were less tense and dropped a bit. The fear came back as Stanley had started advancing towards him. The fear was back in his eyes and Stanley relished in the panic looking back at him. Stanley stared at him intently, knowing that these were his final moments. These are the final moments of Chief John Gordon. Father of 3, served the community for over 20 years. As if Stan could give a shit, though. He was a homophobic asshole who got what was coming to him. 

And from what Bill had told him, he was a racist, sexist asshole too- that dabbled in his fair share of antisemitism as well (or at least, that was the conclusion that Stan had come to when Bill dragged him to their Christmas party last year; and he had overheard John compare the kippah on his head to the bullseye of a target. He was drunk off his ass on scotch that he was no doubt going to write off as a business expense and make the town of Derry pay for, joking very loudly about how funny it would be to wipe the smiles off Denbrough and his jew boyfriend’s faces). He was a father of 3, divorced twice. Rumour around the precinct was that he had beaten his current wife half to death on more than one occasion, but used his position as captain to avoid charges; but that was all just hearsay. Hearsay that Bill definitely thought was real. And was deeply troubled by the fact it was treated as office gossip rather than an issue. But that was just the kind of atmosphere that was there. He was doing the world a favour by taking him out, if you asked Stan. 

Stanley was his final conversation, the last thing he would see or hear before he died. Stanley controlled when his life was going to end. Stanley in that moment, felt like a G-d; and he stood up a little taller and walked with a little more power as that feeling washed over him. “I’m not gonna hurt you... I’m going to fucking kill you.” Stanley said, careful not to yell that out as he didn’t want any unwanted attention. He was so calm as he said that, and that’s what creeped John out the most. And before he could think about what he said, before he could register what he had said, Stanley pulled out the knife that had been waiting in his pocket all along, and stabbed him in the jugular. Not as deep as what would have been most effective. He wanted him to have a very slow, very, very painful death. He quickly lost his footing, as he was growing delirious from the rapid blood loss, he fell to the ground and broke his own fall with his hands. Stanley loomed over him, and crouched down to be able to look him in the eyes. 

“Modus operandi remind you of anybody?” Stanley whispered harshly, each of his words punctuated heavily, almost as sharply as the blade that cut him. “You’re so fucking dense, though. I’d be surprised if it did.” He spoke again, using his moment of weakness to his advantage, and tied his hands together tightly with white rope from his pocket; John tried not to wince at the sudden pain. He started to not be able to feel his hands as the circulation was slowly being cut off but, that was the least of his concern. He tried to open his mouth but he was too in shock to speak. Stan could see the gears, as rusty and unused as they were, turn in his head. He finally came to the conclusion that was so obvious, and was as wide eyed as Stanley had ever seen anyone. 

“You’re.. you’re the Barrens Butcher...” He said, caution on his lips as he had yet to believe it himself. He laughed triumphantly, which Stanley found on. He was on the ground, with his hands tied, slowly bleeding to death from a large wound in his neck, there was nothing to be excited or thrilled about here. “I can’t believe it.. Denbrough’s boyfriend is the fucking killer.. oh wait until the guys find out about this- this’ll ruin him!!!” He used what was left of his breath to speak, his words slow and wheezy. The way he said boyfriend with a sneer made Stanley’s stomach turn. “You won’t live long enough for them to find out. You fucking scumbag.” He taunted, and the realization dawned on John that he was right. “You fucking sick fuck. Don’t. You. Dare. Say. His. Name,” He spoke, each period punctuated by a stomp to his face. Years of pent up anger was being taken out in that moment, and it felt so good. It felt so good to see him hurt, to see him be scared. 

“You won’t get away with this.” He struggled to speak, the change of his voice was very odd, as his nose had been broken to pieces. He sounded as if someone was pinching his nose, and he winced in pain every time he said a word; as that was pushing the fragments of his skull and his broken cartilage further into his face. Stanley laughed, “I’ve gotten away with it 13 fucking times. Why should this one be any different.” He crossed his arms in retort. John stared at him with horror, “13 people... I... holy shit, youre- you’re fucking insane...” The police, as of that day, had only found 11 bodies. John tried to slowly scoot away from him, as if that would do him any good now. Stan rolled his eyes, he didn’t care what he thought of him. 

“Shit. If you’ve really killed 13 people, and aren’t just saying that to fuck with me... you got bigger things to worry about, than getting your little revenge on me,” John spoke again, and Stanley got so sick of being patronized; even after overpowering him, and being the cause of his eventual death. Stanley jumped and stomped on his legs, putting all his weight on them as his feet hit the ground. The sound of his strained grunts of pain and the cracking of the bones of his legs drowned out the sound of his comments. “Hard to be on a fuckin’ high horse when I just broke your fuckin legs, and have you tied on the ground, and bleeding out, wouldnt you say?” Stanley spoke, his tone was sporadic and uncontrolled, he was at his breaking point- he was so fed up. John opened his mouth to speak, but Stan held the blade of his knife to his lips, and silenced him. 

“You say another fucking word and I’ll cut each one of your fucking fingers off, and make you fucking eat them.” He was hyperventilating as he spoke, he had lost his mind for the rest of the night. His sanity had taken a backseat for the rest of this encounter. His unpredictability had an effect on John, who was silent for the rest of the night. Whether he believed his threats or not, was another issue- he just wasn’t confident enough to test if they were genuine or not. 

Stan looked over at him, and paced around his body, thinking to himself. John sat laying in waiting, and grew more nervous every second Stan stood in silence. Stanley smiled, the sort of smile like he was trying his hardest not to laugh. John looked up at him, and conveyed without speaking a look of, “What’s so funny?”, but asking out of fear, not curiosity. Stan humoured him, and answered. “I was just thinking. It doesn’t matter if you’re quiet or not, I think I’m just gonna cut your fingers off anyways!” Bursting into laughter as he spoke, watching John squirm in impending doom and intensifying terror. Stan knelt down and grabbed his hand, and pried his fingers apart, and John knew better than to test his luck and his patience and try to retract his fingers. He screamed loudly as he felt Stanley’s sharp knife start to cut through his finger. 

The skin was broken quite easily, and his muscles just the same; even though they were harder to cut through. The bone was agonizing to cut through, but the sheer power of rage willed Stanley to keep going; making it look as easy as cutting through butter at room temperature. Blood spurted from the open wound everywhere, and John hoped that some of it would get on Stan’s shirt, and be the clue that avenged him. Stan was steps ahead of him already, though. He made sure that would not happen. Stanley held his finger in his palm, and open John’s mouth open forcefully with his free hand. John bit the fingers that held his mouth opened and Stanley stabbed him in the ribs in retaliation, deep enough to make his eyes water, not deep enough to puncture a lung and kill him. He wasn’t done with his fun yet. “You fucking cunt,” Stanley whispered; regaining a bit of ominous control. Stanley held his mouth open again, but John knew better than to do anything again. He hoped that maybe if he just let whatever was going to happen, happen, he’d get the torcher over with and just kill him. Or, he’d take too long with the torture, someone would catch him doing this, and he’d be sent to prison- and he’d be revered by a hero of the community; and Bill would have no boyfriend and no job. The latter probably wouldn’t happen, but he could fantasize. Stanley fed him his own finger and laughed, drunk with amusement. 

To think, the man who had made his partner's life hell for the last 5 years, and who had stood so tall, not even an hour ago- was sat there like this. “Chew it,” Stanley commanded, and John was just so perplexed by this all. He wondered how fucked up a person could get, and how they got that fucked up to begin with. John knew Stan had to be pretty messed up, to let alone think of something like this, let alone find it even remotely funny. He didn’t chew, he couldn’t. His jaw was broken into pieces from all the times Stanley repeatedly stomped on it. “I can’t... you broke my fucking jaw,” He stammered. And Stanley grunted in disapproval. “Swallow it fucking whole then. Yah, you heard me. Do it right fucking now or I make you do it again,” and while John wouldnt normally follow the command of someone this unhinged, nothing about this situation was normal so he obviously wouldn’t react normally either. He used all his will and suppressed his gag reflex and swallowed his own finger whole. He thought he was going to be fucking sick, the taste of his blood left a metallic aftertaste that he knew he wouldn’t live long enough to see go away. John grimaced in the humiliation of it all. 

Stanley was tired of this, he was tired of this back and forth. He was no longer amused by his living, but knew he would feel overjoyed at his death. He was going to end it. Once and for all. Perhaps John’s last and final words were the motivation behind finally doing it, though. “I hope one day... one day, you go fucking crazy and kill Denbrough. You’re a ticking fucking time bomb. It’s only a matter of fucking time. And when I see your boyfriend going to hell, I’ll be sure to tell him I told Stanley so.”. Stanley had no words. He had no witty comeback, or well worded retort, he was just angry. He would never fucking do that to Bill, he didn’t know anything. He stabbed him in the heart with his knife, that final raise of his arm, the final feeling of knife meeting flesh ended his reign of terror for the night. Stanley watched the light leave his eyes, and he was overjoyed. He stayed where he was for a moment. He caught his breath, and looked at the moon above him as he collected his thoughts. He felt amazing, he felt so powerful, so thrilled. Things could finally start to get better for Bill at work, and it would be all thanks to him. 

Stanley slowly got off of him, not wanting to leave this moment in the past. He wanted to hold onto the joy he felt, now and forever. Before he left for his car for the rest of his supplies, he punched him in the stomach, and laughed hysterically at the irony as he did so. He walked to his car, to get the supplies he needed, mostly cleaning supplies. He wouldn’t be too concerned with teeth extraction or anything like that, he didn’t want this identity or location of this body to be concealed. He wanted it out in the open, for anyone to see or find. But, carefully positioned in a way that the security cameras wouldn’t have been able to catch them- they were just out of frame. He cleaned the body intricately, leaving not one square millimetre of skin unchecked. There was no way there was any evidence on that body, and just to be sure he washed it again. He left the rope around his wrists as a way to degrade him even in death, to embarrass him just as he had done to Bill far too many times. 

It was one last ‘fuck you’ to him, he would be found the exact same way all the other victims were; bound and bloodied. John never really cared for the victims while he was alive, because they were all usually gay males lured by the suspectedly gay serial killer (and Stan was guilty as charged on that front); and it was ironic given his distain for them, that their fates were the same. Stanley left the rope there because there was no harm in doing so, it wouldn’t do much in the way of forensic evidence. He used a different brand of rope every time, it was to link it aesthetically, not microscopically with the same fibres. As Stanley got up to leave, he admired the work of a job well done. He had done it again, there was no way he would get caught for this one. He boasted about the successful crime scene all the way home to himself. 

He got home, and he felt as if the weight of the world had fallen from his shoulders since the last time he was there. If only he could tell Bill what he had just done for him, if only Bill could know that it was him. He would never have to be treated that horribly again, ever. He couldn’t wait to see his sleeping beauty, waiting there for him. He walked over to him, not picking him up yet, just watching. Looking at him, admiring every inch of skin that lay there exposed. He watched the way his hair was slightly mixed against the pillow, how his chest would rise was he would breathe. His breath ghosted over him as he walked by him, getting closer and closer to him, daring himself to venture further. He didn’t know why he did this, why he wanted to watch him. They’d known each other since they were little kids, had been dating since high school, he didn’t have to observe like this; he could have the real thing whenever he wanted to. 

He guessed he was just smitten, and wanted to sneak a glance whenever he could. And, this was the closest he’d ever get to seeing Bill unconscious, a fantasy that he’d be remiss to say wasn’t always somewhere in the very back of his mind. And, he’d get to fully admire him in all of his beauty while he was asleep, he could analyze every detail one by one. From the angle of his cupid’s bow, to the small remnants of freckles from the summer sun’s kiss that barely lingered on his nose upon close inspection, to the way his forehead sort of crinkled as he was deep in concentration in a dream. He was beautiful, a work of art for only his enjoyment, and he made sure to tell him how pretty he was as often as he’d hear it. Bill bloomed like a flower in April at even the slightest compliment, and Stan had no objection to calling him beautiful in all the ways the english language would allow it (putting his knowledge of hebrew to use as well when he felt english didn’t quite do him justice), so they were a great match.

Stanley left the room just as quietly as he had entered. Careful not to step on any creaky floorboards as he walked up the stairs and into their bedroom, changing out of his clothes ridden with evidence that would lead to life in prison or, the death penalty, so he was extra careful when he took them off to make sure that they didn’t touch anything. He put on his pyjamas and felt cozier, like he wasn’t carrying around that baggage anymore. He grabbed his clothes and held them at a great distance from him, so they wouldn’t touch him and contaminate him with evidence again; his paranoia insisted on it. He put his clothes in the washing machine, and walked back to the living room to get Bill, making good on his promise to get him so they could sleep together. Stanley thought it was endearing that he had still insisted on it even after all these years. Stan walked over to him, and gingerly scooped him up in his arms to take him to bed. He was about halfway down the hallway to the staircase when he saw Bill’s eyes flutter open. His eyes were tired but beautiful as always, and Stanley was entranced by the pretty blue staring back at him as always. 

“Hey baby, did I wake you?” Stanley spoke calmly and eloquently, a sharp contrast to his behaviour earlier that night. Bill smiled sheepishly and nodded. “I don’t mind though, thank you for coming back to get me,” He spoke genuinely, closing his eyes when his sentence concluded. Stanley smiled, “Anything for you, pumpkin,” And Stanley knew he was barely listening, but even if he did have his full attention, he would’ve only taken it as a common expression. But it wasn’t, the word anything had no bounds when it came to Bill, and he had more than proven that tonight. 

“I’ve been thinking, a lot actually. About what you had said tonight, that you hate this town. And I’m not too fond of it either, so, why don’t we move. Let’s leave this whole place behind Bill, I know we’ve lived here since we were born but... we’re adults now. We can leave if we want. We can go anywhere you want to go. As long as it’ll make you happy, I’ll follow you wherever you want to live. And I know you probably won’t go, because of the investigation but... What has this town ever done for us? You don’t owe them anything, Bill. We deserve better than this, you certainly deserve better than this,” Stanley spoke, not being too overly concerned with his phrasing things as he was sure that Bill was too tired to be properly following along anyways. But he made sense enough, he was speaking logically. 

And maybe it was his tired state, maybe it was because he had just been woken up and he was a bit disoriented, maybe it was the fact that he had just had one of the worst days he’d had in a very long time. Who knew, but Bill smiled at Stanley, and looked him dead in the eyes to let him know he was serious, “Okay Stan, let’s move.” And Stanley couldn’t wait to look up houses in the morning. He was elated as he walked with Bill in his arms up the stairs, and was overjoyed as he tucked Bill into bed. He didn’t care about the complications, he just cared about Bill’s happiness; and also what came with a new area. New victim pool that wasn’t scared, cops who weren’t on his tail, and those same cops that didn’t have any evidence against his killer alter ego of sorts. He was gonna like moving, he just hoped that Bill would stick to his decision in the morning. Bill was probably not going to, though. 

He knew that it would be a lot of work to move, to find a job at another police force, for Stanley to find another job, and for all the other trials and tribulations that came with the stress of moving. He reminded himself though, that there were always a million reasons not to do something. But he felt safe and cozier than usual in his boyfriend’s arms that night as he fell back asleep. He felt peace knowing his days in Derry were numbered. And Stanley lay peacefully sleeping by his side, holding him close as he did; his hand still in his hair as he fell asleep playing with it. He was asleep, and unaware of the costly mistake he had made that night. In all his excitement, careless came to dwell. He had left his first peace of tangible evidence behind at the scene of the crime- a footprint in the mud by the pavement. Unbeknownst to anyone until the police first on the scene the next day found it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment and/or a kudos if u have yet to! but honestly, the fact youve even taken the time to read this is good enough <3
> 
> lots of love from me to u!!


	3. love you just a little too much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is 100% the kinkiest filth i have EVER written… whew
> 
> the way there is 2 long ass smuts….the second one one is better IMO (i wrote this in reverse so i sorta burnt out)
> 
> in is just kind of meaningless smut, hope you enjoy ^^ 
> 
> ** in this chapter, a line break indicates a passage of time, not the cut off point where something gorey is going to happen. there is no death in this chapter my lovelies! **
> 
> also when i say ‘petplay’ please know i don’t mean like. leather masks and squeak toys, not trying to kinkshame, that’s just not what this is. this is low on the spectrum of petplay, bill just gets cute ear clips and a collar.

Stanley Uris hated to lose. He’d always been that way, ever since he was a child. He hated when he lost bets, hated when he wasn’t top of the class- because in his opinion, not being the most successful was losing. So, it rarely happened. He’d been such a great baseball player in his youth- not for the love of the game or the pride in his own accomplishments, but because he hated to lose. He’d won every game he’d ever played, whether that be on a baseball diamond, a university classroom, his office at work, wherever. Always having to be ahead of everyone, would be exhausting for anyone else. But not him. 

He considered the little ‘rapport’ (as he perceived it to be), with the police, a game. And that was one he was determined not to lose as well. However, the one prize he’d never lose, and do everything in his power to keep now and forever, was his Bill. 

_His_ Bill. 

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

  
  


Their house was in, one word, shambles. It was an organized and planned chaos though. Everything was neatly folded and pristinely packed, wrapped away in bubblewrap and packing peanuts in the many boxes that took up space in every room of their house. They had sold their home, and had bought a new house in Portland, Maine. They didn’t take possession of that house, nor had to be out of their current one until next month, the timing had worked out great for them. They were both more than happy to move, and to finally be rid of Derry once and for all. Stanley had found another accounting job at a larger firm than the one he was currently employed at, so he would make quite a bit more money. But what he really cared about, was Bill. Bill had gone down to interview at the Portland police department there a couple of times, and had gone to fill out some paperwork and deliver some paperwork about his transfer to the station. He had only been there a couple of times, but he was already so thrilled about going there. 

  
  


Bill had received a lot of kudos from his soon to be colleagues while he was there, briefly, on his work to catch the Barrens Butcher; which was a first for Bill. Bill had never even heard a “good morning!” from his coworkers, let alone positive feedback. He was so excited to transfer, this would be a fresh start in more ways than one. And that’s what this was all about, making Bill happy and leaving this town behind them, as well as leaving all the chaos behind them too. And boy, was Derry in chaos right now. So much chaos, it made the boxes that took up what was left in their living room, look like elegant decor. 

  
  


Stanley was more than happy to leave Derry in a state of panic and chaos that made the mess of boxes in his livingroom look tame. That town had never done anything for him, nor Bill. They had no responsibility to it. The murder of police chief John Gordon certainly made things a lot worse, though. And Stanley couldn’t blame the people of Derry for that. It was human nature to only fear what effected you, it was a survival skill. It wasn’t practical to dwell on everything, slight possibilities weren’t anything to lose sleep over. And that’s how the people of Derry reacted to the Barrens Butcher. People who didn’t fit the profile of the victims weren’t worried. People who weren’t attractive, caucasian, young men with some variation of brown hair and some variation of blue eyes weren’t worried. But when the police chief was murdered leaving the police station in what was theorized to be an attempt to terrorize the community (or to exact revenge on the boss that harassed the killer's lover, if you knew the real story), proved that their ignorance was misguided. 

  
  


The killer was possibly switching up who they were targeting, and the killer was capable of overpowering anyone. If anyone could be next, everybody was afraid. This sent shockwaves of terror in the community, and throughout the police force. The police were terrified, too terrified to do anything productive, though. And the community was distraught, they had fallen for every perfectly planed and scheduled PR opportunity Gordon had taken advantage of over the course of his career and actually liked him. He was the quote in the papers that made everything seem under control, he was the voice on local news that reminded the public that everything was fine. He lulled the public into a false sense of security, and it wasn’t until his death that they realized how false that sense of security really was. He was a pillar of strength of the community. If he said all was well, the people of Derry believed all was well. 

  
  


But, if that’s who the people of Derry had decided to make the pillar of their community, they really couldn’t blame him if the community fell apart. That pillar was bound to crumble, Stanley just sped the process along. Stanley’s plan had worked, which was all he could bring himself to care about. Bill’s work life had gotten a bit better, as he waited out the days until he could finally transfer to Portland. The new chief was okay, he wasn’t good, he wasn’t great, he wasn’t particularly smart or even that competent; but he hadn’t called Bill any slurs or degraded him in any way which Bill counted as a major win. He wouldn’t call him Bill, though, because he saw that as unprofessional. 

  
  


“I’m not your ‘outside of work’ buddy, William. Let’s keep things professional around here.” He'd tell him in a friendly enough tone of voice, whenever Bill would smile and say, “Bill is fine” whenever he’d call him by his full name, something he’d never gone by even as a child. He only referred to him as William or nothing at all; which Bill found weird but... tolerable. 

  
  


The atmosphere of work life at the Derry police station wasn’t as tolerable, there was no favouritism or ingrained discrimination anymore. As they knew things like that wouldn’t be tolerated anymore. It was still very uncomfortable, though. Bill gritted his teeth and still worked alongside his coworkers though, which was strange. It was strange to have to look someone in the eyes and set aside years of discrimination and pretend that it didn’t happen just because it had stopped suddenly. But it has gotten better. And while the memories of the past still haunted the halls of the precinct, and Bill could swear he could hear faint yellings that sounded faintly like his old boss when the room was quiet enough. Bill supposed it could be his ghost with unfinished business, if he had a belief in the paranormal, which he didn’t. Perhaps his boss wanted to call him a faggot one last time for good measure in the afterlife, or mutter “pansy” under his breath whenever Bill opted to make tea rather than coffee in the break room. While those memories were there, at least they were only memories. And he was taken slightly more seriously, and so were his ideas for the task force. 

  
  


They were only taken more seriously because the police force had a vested interest to save face now, as one of their own had joined the ranks of the victims. The victims mattered now. Bill was slight disgusted by the blatant favouritism that was the cause of the change of heart, but he was just happy that there was some motivation to get them justice, as corrupt as it was. How work life had improved, but it wasn’t enough for him to stay. He still felt looked down upon, and he felt different. He felt stared at whenever he walked into a room, like he was always the odd one out no matter what, his fellow officers just couldn’t say anything about it anymore.

  
  


Stanley had remembered a conversion they had had over dinner one night, one of the first nights since the chief had been killed. Bill had maybe had one glass of wine too many, so he was a bit tipsy and a bit more honest. He had a terribly low alcohol tolerance, wine was basically like truth serum for him. Stanley had remembered what he had said perfectly, almost to a tee. No, definitely to a tee. It took him aback when he heard it, never was he expecting that. 

  
  


_“You know what, Stan...” He said with a giggle, holding his hand from across the table and toying at his food with his fork with the other, as if he was nervous about what he was going to say. “What’s that baby?” Stanley inquired back in the same giggly tone. Bill laughed again, and blushed in embarrassment. Stanley was genuinely curious about what he was going to say. Bill traced the veins in his partner’s hand softly as he tried to find the words, which was tough for his tipsy brain. Stanley was already getting shivers from the slight touch, and the way Bill’s blue eyes just seemed to sparkle in anticipation at what he was about to say._

  
  


_“Well it’s just.. I feel so bad about saying this.. especially considering. Everything that’s happened. But! Whatever, so be it! I’m gonna say it, you wouldn’t ever judge me,” Bill trailed off, coaxing himself to speak further and divulge whatever he was giggling about. He had no idea. Stanley would never judge him, partially because he was so depraved and inhuman that he had no right to judge anybody. He did still judge people though, because of his superiority complex and because he was often not self aware enough to know things like that. But wholeheartedly, he would never judge him because he loved him. “I’m almost.. happy. I’m almost happy that he’s gone. I’m happy Chief Gordon is gone... in a sick way. I feel really bad, but... Work is so much better without him there. And I feel bad ‘cus..” Stanley cut him off, “There’s nothing to feel bad about. I promise you. You have every right to feel confused and conflicted. I totally understand what you’re going through. You feel bad, because he died horribly, and you feel bad for noticing the benefits of him not being here. He was a horrible person to you, don’t feel bad because you feel a sense of relief that he can’t push you around anymore.” Stanley took the words right out of his mouth. Bill nodded, “Exactly, that’s exactly how I feel,” but he continued to speak. “That’s not.. thats not why I feel bad though.” Bill giggled again, taking another sip from his glass._

  
  


_And Stanley laughed at how cute he was being, he was adorable when he got tipsy. The more he thought about it, Stanley crooned that his boyfriend’s effervescence gave the bubbly in his glass a run for its money. Stanley gestured for him to continue. Stan felt Bill grab his hand a bit tighter as he spoke, and the comment was worth all the coaxing it took to get it out of him. His voice was still light and bubbly, but.. raspier. Darker. He stared at him intently so he knew that he was being sincerely serious. “I just.. wish there was some way I could thank the guy that.. did it. I feel awful. Wanting to thank somebody like that for something like this but.... I owe him,” He giggled again at the ridiculousness of the words leaving his mouth. His lustful tone leaving as quickly as it had came, and his voice was as giggly and light as it had been all night. Stan stood there in awe of what he had just heard, unable to think of anything to say. All his remaining blood had went right to his member which rendered him pretty much useless and powerless to think of anything to say. Especially anything to persuade him to not feel like that, the rational thing to do. Stan felt appreciated, he knew his baby appreciated everything he did for him, even though he didn’t know it was him who did it._

  
  


_Bill set his glass down on the coaster adjacent to him, he knew how much the rings of drink residue bothered Stanley. He used his newly free hand to trail his hand seductively down Stanley’s broad chest, undoing a few of the buttons on his dresshirt he hadn’t taken off yet. Stanley wasn’t sure if Bill really did know, or if this was the alcohol making him act so forward. Either way, Stanley was tantalized, and whether Bill knew it or not, Stanley wanted to make sure he knew the person who did him that sick little favour... truly felt thanked._

  
  


Stan had remembered the sex they had that night was particularly good. Good enough to stick out in the sea of great times they shared together almost every night. He definitely thanked the killer, in more ways than one, even if he didn’t know that.

  
  


Interrupting his thoughts, was the sound of Bill wandering around- the sound of Bill up to something. The featured star of his daydreams interrupted them, how fitting. Stanley chuckled softly to himself. This peaked his interest, and he followed the sound to the source. This was sure to be more interesting than dusting picture frames before they were wrapped in bubble wrap and packed into boxes. The sound was Bill cutting a small hole in a package, and taking a look inside. It was as if he already knew what was in the box, but just wanted confirmation to be sure. “Whatcha got there, my love?” Stan inquired innocently, surprising Bill. He let out a startled gasp, and nearly dropped the box and the boxcutter on the hardwood floor. Bill placed a hand to his chest to steady his heartbeat, and laughed a bit. “You scared me!”, He laughed, and didn’t answer for a moment. His cheeks grew flush at the question and Stan knew he had the right idea to come in here. This was definitely more entertaining than packing. 

  
  


“It came,” And that was all he said. Stan looked at him with a puzzled expression, he had no idea what he was referring to by ‘it’. He wasn’t even toying with him and faking innocence to get him to admit to something, he genuinely didn’t know- or at least had no memory of whatever ‘it’ was. Bill read his expression and clarified, not that his answer was at all obvious. “What you… ordered for me.. it came,” Stanley thought for a moment, and a smirk grew on his lips. He remembered exactly what he had ordered now, and exactly what was in that box. Stanley found his shyness all too adorable, his pale cheeks were dusted with an embarrassed blush, pink suited him. 

  
  


Bill watched the smirk on his face appear, and blushed even deeper at the knowing gaze that fell on him now. Stanley found his blush absolutely adorable, even after all their times together, he was still shy. He still had an innocence to him, even though he had done many, many things that were the furthest from innocence. The blush blooming on his cheeks made Stanley want to wreck him even more. Before Bill knew what to do, before he had any indication that Stanley was going to do something, Stanley pulled the box from out of hands, and opened it. Bill really wished he hadn’t done that, but he didn’t want to infantilize himself by begging for it back- acting like a child playing keep away would be most unbecoming of him. Stanley pried open the box, ripping at the small tear Bill had opened, Bill had to stop himself from laughing at the impatience. Stanley examined the contents of it, his smirk growing wider and eyes darkening with a familiar haze of lust. A haze of lust Bill had seen far too many times. 

  
  


“You’re gonna look so fucking hot in this...” He whispered under his breath, at a tone that could’ve been mistaken as an off handed comment to himself- but it definitely was not. It was meant for Bill to hear, and hear it he did. Bill shuddered as he heard it, Stanley couldn’t wait to see him in that, and Bill couldn’t wait to be seen. Regrettably, he felt himself grow a bit hard at the thought. 

  
  


Bill and Stan had a very active and experimental sex life, delving into many different sides of softcore to hardcore BDSM. They trusted each other wholeheartedly, so nothing was off limits. Stan loved to be dominate, and Bill had a deep seated need to be dominated. It was something that was innately in them, they were a great match that way. When they had first started a new chapter in their relationship by being starting to be intimate with each other, their sex was as pure and unassuming as they were. Neither one of them wanting to start the conversion of kink, neither one of them wanting to be the one to bring it up. It had been Bill to raise the issue to both of their attentions, but on an accident- a very happy, welcomed accident. During their third time sleeping together, Bill had accidentally called Stanley ‘daddy’ as he came- and it was a slippery slope from there. They hadn’t held anything back since then, experimenting with many, many kinks. They were a great pair, the two of them. Stan was willing to try anything as long as it meant being dominant over Bill, and Bill was willing to try anything as long as it meant Stan was his dominant. And after so many amazing experimentations, they were certain vanilla sex could never satisfy them again- and they certainly did not go back. 

  
  


It felt good for Bill to give up control, and it felt good for Stan to take it. It relieved a lot of the stresses that came from their stressful, every day lives. Though, sometimes it added some stresses for Stan. He was always analyzing himself, always making sure to not be too suspicious. He never let his truly depraved, inherently deviant side be completely unleashed. He didn’t want Bill’s inquisitive mind to put the two clues together. But as more signs became apparent to Bill, so out in the open sometimes Stan wondered why he hadn’t turned himself in yet (though that could have been his incessant paranoia). Bill still had failed to clue in, so he had been a bit more... daring as of late. He had started to choke Bill a bit harder, scratch him a bit deeper, biting him hard enough to draw a fair amount of blood- and G-d, was Bill a sucker for it. He loved it, and he would take all that Stan would give him. It never failed to amaze him how much of a slut Bill was- though, he was amazed by it in a loving way. Stan was so lucky to have him all to himself. Their escapades in the bedroom were like a game, always trying to one-up their previous night. ‘Daddy’ was great, but it lost its depravity after awhile, and sometimes, to be frank, it was a bit too loving for Bill’s taste. Bill was complicated, he had both a praise kink, and degradation kink. And Stan was an expert on reading him, he knew when he was in the mood for one, or the other, or a mix of both. 

  
  


And lately, as Stan got rougher with him, Bill had an affinity towards the degradation. He wanted to feel owned by Stan, he wanted to be controlled by him, to submit completely- in the most unromantic, unloving way possible. ‘Daddy’ had been retired, or at least, for the next little bit. It might’ve been fairer to say it’d taken a hiatus. And in this period of time, ‘master’ had been their word of choice. It made Bill feel weak, and it made Stan feel in control; it was perfect for them. 

  
  


But what Stan loved most of all, was how it sounded being said through strained moans and between choked pants for breath through Bill’s swollen lips, slick with spit. It was ripe for potential role play scenarios, and Bill was always creative and full of ideas when it came to those- and Stan was always all too eager to bring those fantasies to life, And thus, that perfect storm of circumstances, gave way for the concept of ‘petplay’ to be discussed in their bedroom. Neither of them were fans of the idea of Bill wearing a mask or barking or playing with chew toys like what some people understood petplay to be. They were both very much turned on by Bill on a leash, calling him master- and wanting to be a good boy for Stan. And, Bill never passed up the opportunity of Stan buying him something cute to wear, and Stan never missed an opportunity to buy him cute things to wear. And thus, that package arrived at their door that morning, though, technically afternoon now. 

  
  


And Stan couldn’t help but be thankful that it came when it did- that would be a very unfortunate package for the new owners of their home to open if they weren’t there to get it. Stan couldn’t wait to see how adorable his Bill was going to look in what he had picked out for him. Bill had said he wanted to be surprised, and Bill sort of knew what to expect when he told Stan to surprise him when it came to outfits like that. Usually that meant he was going to either be in lace, a skirt, a dress, a cropped shirt, little tiny shorts, or nothing at all. Either way it would come with matching thigh garters because Stan always loved those so much. Bill loved to be surprised like that. He liked feeling like Stan’s little doll, his cute little fuckdoll, that he dressed up and bought cute little outfits for. Bill was excited to be doted over and complemented excessively, while also told he looks like a slut in something so revealing- but, he had far too much to do than to open that right now. Modelling for Stanley could wait. 

  
  


“You’re trying that on... I can't wait to see how it looks on you,” Stan smiled, a devilish kind of smile, the question that could be innocent, and a bit sweet- if only the contents of the book was innocent and a bit sweet. Bill turned in protest, blush growing on his cheeks. “It’s 1:30PM, Stan... d-don’t you think it’s a b-bit early,” His voice faltering slightly, giving way his newly flustered demeanour. Stanley couldn’t help but think it was innocent, and a bit sweet he still got flustered like that after all this time. But, he grew annoyed at that though, as quickly as it came, sure Bill was sweet- but he was nowhere near innocent. And, he always did what Stan told him to do, he had trained him to be obedient when they got like this. He had trained Bill better than this. 

  
  


“You’re trying this on for me right now,” Stanley said, his voice rough and raspy with want. It wasn’t phrased as a question, nor was it a statement. It was a command, Bill was going to do what he asked. “And I’m not fucking saying it again.” He grabbed Bill’s wrist possessively, and Bill bit back a groan at the sudden grip his boyfriend had on him. Feeling that powerless feeling he loved so much, and helplessly let him drag him to their shared bedroom, keeping up with his quick pace as they went up to the stairs. 

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Stanley waited on the edge of their bed, patiently. Well, as patient as he could possibly be, he was normally not a patient person, far from it in fact. To say he was the opposite of patient would not be a stretch of the imagination, or an unfair assessment. But, Bill was the only person he could be patient for; because in his opinion, Bill was the only thing that would ever be worth the wait. Stanley laughed to himself, at himself really, as he thought about this. “I really am whipped, huh?” He thought, mentally chuckling. Maybe he’d tell Bill about that thought one day. 

“You’ve been in there for quite a while honeybee, does it have a tie in the back that you need help doing up?” Stanley spoke, mischievous seduction noticeably taunting the question. Innocently posed; or as innocently as it could be posed- but he was really just trying to see what the hood up was without sounding like too much of an ass about it. 

“N-no... it… it isn’t that… It’s embarrassing...” and Stanley almost scoffed at the impossibility of Bill’s stuttered reply. Bill in lingerie- or any compromising scenario for that matter, was many, many things. Impossibly sexy, so beautiful not even the most gifted poet could capture it with words, something so alluring it was always on his mind, something he considered himself beyond lucky that he was who Bill had chosen to be the only one to be able to see him in such a way. And, Stanley could go on. He could go on for hours if Bill would let him. But embarrassing, it was absolutely not. Stanley called his bluff. 

“Darling, I have fucked you in every position imaginable. You’re choosing now to be embarrassed?” Stanley smirked at his own statement, and though he couldn’t see Bill; he knew he was probably blushing madly right now. Complete with a sparkle in his deep blue eyes that he got whenever Stanley said things like that; and only then. He liked to catch Bill off guard in the best way with a well placed, well crafted phrase like that. Bill was so susceptible to dirty talk it was nearly too easy to seduce him; and even easier to get him begging on his knees soon thereafter the seduction took place; hard and begging for him. 

And then, he revealed himself; stepping into their bedroom and standing in the doorway that separated their ensuite. His hand was tentatively resting on the doorframe, questioning whether to show himself fully or not. He didn’t look nervous or uncomfortable, just shy. It warmed Stanley’s heart that even after all these years he could still… be shy. There was a preservation of his innocence; they could still experience new things together. Stanley was sure the spark of their romance would never, ever go out. Little things like the blush on Bill’s cheeks helped him keep that faith. 

Stanley drank every inch of him in from top to bottom; like he was a sommelier savouring a thousand dollar glass of wine. 

He was so adorable. His hair was slightly tousled and messy, and G-d did Stanley just want to pull it. It looked so much better than Stanley ever could’ve imagined it would’ve. And Stanley had a very vivid imagination. Bill had cute black ears clipped into his hair, they looked so soft and so lifelike. He was naked apart from tight little shorts that barely covered anything, and they did very little to hide the bulge forming there. The black shorts even had cute little lace frills at the bottom- he was too adorable. The clip ears must’ve come with the set, Stanley concluded, because they had tiny bows made out of the same lace. He had a leather collar with the same frills on it, that connected to a leather leash, that matched the leather thigh garters on his pale thighs. Thighs that were ghosted with faded purple hickeys from their previous escapades. And, what was perhaps Stanley’s favourite part, the little tail that poked through his shorts. He hadn’t remembered ordering that for him, so Bill must’ve picked that out himself, Stanley realized. Bill was too fucking cute, he’d be the death of him. 

G-d, he looked so cute, Bill looked bashful as he played with the leash that connected to the black leather collar around his neck. As if he had any right to be bashful, looking like that… while wearing that. He stayed there, waiting. Waiting for what, Stanley wasn’t sure. He called out to him and tried to get him over to him. It was cute to see him apprehensive and out of his element. 

“C’mon puppy.... don’t you want to please your master?” He smirked, with a warm tone that steadied Bill’s racing heart. His heart wasn’t just racing because he was antsy, and wanted to hear Stanley’s praises. He also had a surprise for him; that he was antsy to reveal. He really wanted to hear and to see Stanley’s reaction when he eventually revealed it, though he was also a bit shy to do so. 

Not to mention, Bill’s heartbeat picked up in the best way at the use of the word master; and he felt a rush of blood go to his lace covered cock. Bill always loved Stanley’s shamelessness. He used the word master as casually as he would’ve said his own name, like it was fact. Because it was, their power play was undeniable, and slowly working its way into a part of their relationship that extended outside of the bedroom. And they liked that. Bill liked to be taken care of, and Stanley like to take care of him. Bill liked to submit and Stanley liked to make him submit; to watch him submit. 

His flirtatiousness pulled Bill out of his thoughts and back into the moment; and the inevitability of him being fucked into the mattress for the remainder of the afternoon.

“More than anything....” Bill replied quickly- so quickly he nearly cut Stanley off. And, also, he spoke earnestly, meaning every syllable he spoke. His eyes sparkled, hopeful and waiting. 

“Well come on then, sweets.. you already look so sexy for me.. you don’t want to just be a tease, hmm?” 

And Bill shook his head profusely no, and walked over to his waiting partner. 

“C’mere, puppy…” Stanley almost whispered, warmly. Stanley was sitting on the edge of their shared bed, and held his hand out for Bill to place his hand on. Which he did. Bill looked beautifully bashful as Stanley took him all in up close. “Give me a twirl baby, let’s see you,” Stanley cooed, and Bill smiled and blushed in a bit of embarrassment; though he tried to look away to hide them both to no avail. He did as Stanley asked; and the flowing lace swished around his hips.

Stanley interlocked their fingers and held them tight. And there was something so tender about this moment that led up to something so sinful. 

“So pretty…” Stanley mused softly, drinking every bit of him in yet again. The temperature of Bill’s cheeks and the rosey shade of pink that dawned them made a groan escape from Stanley’s throat. Something about Bill always made him almost unhinged. 

Bill could bask in the radiance of Stanley’s praises forever and ever; or as long as the world would allow him to.

And, something caught Stanley’s eyes and he couldn’t get enough, he nearly growled audibly at the sight. A burning need to be deep inside of him sparked within him. He’d get his wish soon enough; but he teased himself to keep himself on edge. 

Living with Bill in such close proximity was greater than any drug, and he’d gladly be strung out forever. To breathe his scent in daily, to watch him all the time, to share a home. Bill was all Stanley could ever think about, and his thoughts never faltered in their intensity. Being around him could be akin to torture because of how badly he always wanted him, but so close to Bill in attire like that was even worse. 

Stanley was entranced by the way the fluffy tail swished with his movement. He ran his hand over it which made Bill shudder, and Stanley couldn’t figure out why. 

Stanley smiled, Bill was too cute for either of their own goods. “This cute lil’ tail…. how is this attached, sweets?,” And Bill wanted to let him find out for himself, he was too embarrassed to answer out loud. So, he did the only thing that made sense at the time, and kissed him; kissing him to shut him up. Stanley was a bit confused, but had absolutely no complaints as he pulled Bill up into his lap. And neither did Bill as he relaxed into his touch, cupping Stanley’s face and kissing him as though his life depended on it. 

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” He pulled away to whisper, his breath tickled against Bill’s face. Stanley smirked as he leaned back in to continue. Their lips brushed together as he bit at them; and ran his tongue over Bill’s lips to tease him. He traced their outline with the tip of his tongue, and slowly sucked his bittom lip into his mouth. He wanted to take his sweet time with Bill and savour every inch of him, all dressed up and cute like this. 

The sounds of their teeth clicking accompanied Bill’s soft sighs and moans; he was as he always was, so receptive to anything and everything. 

As the kiss intensified, so did Stanley’s desires. He needed to grab hold of him; not just hold him. He wanted to dig his nails into his skin as he had done so many times before and feel him. He wanted to feel him shudder and shiver in his grasp, and hear him moan as he always did at his harsh touch. Stanley’s strong hands snake under Bill’s shorts and Stanley’s heartbeat picks up as he hears him groan softly. He sucked at his tongue harshly and let out a possessive growl into his open mouth as he groped his ass. Bill whimpered as he felt his hands explore him; grab him tightly. As Stanley kneaded his ass he felt metal; and he found out what his cute tail was attached to. The plush fluffy fabric was connected to a black steel buttplug. 

So that’s why he took so long to get ready… 

Stanley pulled away and raked his teeth against the skin of his neck, trailing his tongue along where the edge of the leather met his pale skin. 

“I see how it’s attached now…” He whispered huskily as he sucked a hickey on the skin of the centre of his throat and Bill let out a whimper. He shifted uncomfortably between Stanley’s thighs in his lap; his hardening member strained against his shorts and rubbed up against his stomach. Stanley noticed it, and Bill felt him smirk against the crook of his neck. 

“You’re so fucking hot….” He cooed, as he kissed another bite mark he’d left close beside the other. His words were as addicting as nicotine; Bill could listen to him talk like that forever. And, his candor was as smooth as velvet; slow and relaxed like he had all the time in the world to unravel him bit by bit. Bill groaned again as Stanley continued to mark up his neck. 

“But… as hot as I find you…” His voice was quieter now, hushed, but just as relaxed. The calm before the storm. He kissed at the last hickey he would leave for the time being; and all traces of affection in his actions were gone for the day as well. 

Stanley pulled away from Bill and he whimpered in desperate protest; a reaction Stanley had no sympathy for. 

Bill looked into his eyes with a pleading look and saw that his eyes had changed. His brown eyes were darker and not as warm; dilated with lust and a bit of anger if Bill was not mistaken. Which, he wasn’t. Stanley was no longer looking at him with rose tinted glasses, heart eyes; or any other indicator of adoration. 

He went from his puppy to his bitch; and Bill shuddered at the sight. 

“You still had to finger yourself to do that.. and i’m the only one who’s allowed to do that…” Stanley said, his voice noticeably dropped an octave and sounded much more stern; how he got when they did things like this. Bill stayed silent as he could sense Stanley was still thinking about what to say, and that he wasn’t finished. And, Bill didn’t want to upset him further. 

“Bad little puppies need to be spanked sometimes.. maybe even whipped too..” 

“Oh… please….” Bill bit his lip to try and subdue a moan that threatened to escape him. He didn’t want to let on how much he wanted to be punished, because he knew Stanley wouldn’t do it. It was supposed to be a punishment after all- it was in the name; he wasn’t going to do it if Bill was looking forward to it. 

That was kinda sorta Bill’s plan all along. He wanted to give him a nice surprise, but also test the limits of his master's rules for him- so they could both get what they liked. Even though Stanley had set rules for them when they were in petplay headspace; Stanley liked it when Bill didn’t follow them, because, it meant he could punish him. He loved his Bill regardless of whether he was a good boy or a bad one. 

Stanley quirked an eyebrow at him; and could sense what he was thinking. He knew Bill too well, and fucked him too often to not know what he liked and what he didn’t. “Oh, you like that huh?” Stanley asked with a smirk, and Bill nodded earnestly, but tried to conceal his eagerness. Which again, was not successful. “Actually, I changed my mind. Youre going to pick one or the other. I know you’d like both way too much.” Stanley continued. 

“Spankings please… your hands on me feel better than anything. Nothing else can make me feel good the way you can St-... Sir.” He corrected himself before he committed another faux pas. 

“Don’t even THINK about fingering yourself open unless I’m there to watch. Bad little puppy. Don't you remember the rules, little one?” Stanley asked, tone increasingly getting gruffer and more severe 

“Remind me again, sir,”

“I’m the only one who can touch you here. I own this hole. I own every inch of you. You’re mine. You’re mine for the touching, you’re mine for the fucking. You’re mine to have and mine alone. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal. Sir.” Bill answered, reverently. 

Stanley scoffed, “I must not have fucking been. Will I ever need to repeat myself?”

“No sir. Never.”

“Well, I’m sure I’ve told you this before… So I already have. On your knees, ass up, facing me. Now.”

And Bill hurried into the position Stanley ordered him to get in, as he knew he had no choice. Not that he would have objected if he had one, however. 

And finally, Stanley’s hand came down on his skin. 

“Oh… sir, one!-” Bill counted, trying not to sound too eager, and he relished in the feeling of every one of his fingers slapping his firm ass. He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the feeling. He winced at the initial pain as he always did, but welcomed more of it as it turned into pleasure, nearly immediately; again, as it always did. Things with Stanley were comfortable in their predictability. He always knew things were going to be good. He arched his back further up, wanting more without trying to make it obvious that he did. This was supposed to be a punishment after all. 

Stanley caught on, and called him a “Fuckin’ slut,” under his breath, though Bill heard it, and sighed lewdly as he did. 

Stanley repeated the swift motion, and as usual, took Bill’s moan as a signifier to continue. He never wanted to take Bill out of his comfort zone throughout any part of their relationship. He didn’t even take him to a restaurant he knew would be busy because he didn’t want to risk him feeling anxious in a crowd; so obviously, anything Bill didn’t like in the bedroom was stopped immediately. 

The list of what Bill didn’t like in the bedroom was rather short, however. 

“Two, sir!” Bill counted, as though it was a cheer, eager for the next one. Stanley did this a third time, and noticed that a red mark was forming on his ass, in the shape of his handprint. He always liked them, he liked them better than lovebites. He liked what they represented, that his Bill was a bad little boy who needed to be punished- and Stanley was always the one to deliver those punishments.

He especially liked the fact that sure, while they lasted for less time than a hickey, they effected him more. Sometimes, Bill would tell him, that depending on if the handprints welted or not, it would hurt (with a varying degree of pain) to sit down. So all throughout the day, he’d be reminded of Stanley spanking him. His hand stained his skin, the most intimate area that only Stan got to see, proved this.

And underneath his work slacks; Detective Denbrough was decorated in hickeys, bites, and most of all, the red outline of Stanley Uris’ palm. 

“Three, sir!” Bill counted, again, biting at his lip, he didn’t know how much longer he was going to last. His member was so hard between his legs, and it ached to be touched. The lace rubbed against the head of his leaking cock painfully. Stanley wasn’t keeping it together much better either. He just was more skilled at concealing his moans and keeping them in, while Bill let them slip past his lips with no reserve. Neither of the men were completely sure that they would make it to spanking #4 or #5. 

Stanley bit his lip as he watched the mark of his handprint form, the thought of Bill.. walking around with that kind of a mark. And only them two would know that it was there, it was like a hickey but... better; it was dirtier. A signifier of just how depraved the both of them were. It took Stanley’s breath away to watch every single time. 

Bill felt it form too, and he couldn’t even be bothered to prevent it from writing because truth be told… he sort of liked that too. Or, he had an appreciation for it. The more painful the better, as far as he was concerned with anything sexual. 

And Bill couldn’t wait to see it when he looked at it in the mirror the next time he got the chance. He couldn’t wait to put his uniform on, and only having Stanley and Bill knew the truth of what lay underneath his clothes. 

Hits #4 and #5 went by like a blur to the both of the men, and they both loved it so much. Bill wanted more, and Stanley wanted to give him more. And truth be told, they both wished Stanley had originally said 10. Or maybe a number even higher. He looked at the spatula sitting by them that they had abandoned, and it gave Bill an idea. Maybe he could... go back on his word just a bit. 

Unexpectedly, Bill felt Stanley’s hand strike him again and he cried out at the surprising sensation of pain, and ensuing pleasure. 

“I didn’t hear you count, baby.” Stanley purred

“More??” He asked excitedly, and Stanley smiled at his excitement, his Bill was the cutest person to ever walk the face of the earth, and little comments like that made him more sure of that every single day. 

“When I said five... I meant on each cheek,” He explained, though he really hadn’t. He just liked it a lot more than he anticipated it, and he loved the sounds Bill was making in response to each hit. “And... you didn’t count. So, I guess I have to start over...” He said, and Bill’s heart was elated. 

“One, sir!” The man on the bottom counted happily, groaning at the pain. Bill nearly saw stars when he felt Stanley’s grab onto the loop of his leash, pulling him by the throat. The tight leather choking him lightly from behind. He whimpered at the feeling, it was a noise so high that it could’ve been mistaken for a whine or discomfort or dislike, but it absolutely was not. Stanley did this experimentally, he’d never had Bill on a leash before after all. This was all an experiment. And Stanley decided to keep his hand there, and even pull at Bill the second time. “Two, sir!” He counted again, it hurt a lot more the second time, since the skin was bruising. 

Stanley’s free hand moved the buttplug that was buried deep in Bill’s ass around while he’s spanking him, thrusting it in and out; his fingers still gripping at the leather to hold his leash. Bill couldn’t stop panting with irregular breath, cutting his own counting off with moan after moan. “Three, sir-” Bill moaned, it was getting increasingly harder to count in a way that made sense, his mind was going blank, and it was nearly impossible to speak. 

Stanley grabbed onto his leash tighter, choking him harder, and Bill was in near tears. He felt so good, so powerless, it was almost too much. This was what he needed, this made him feel so much better; as it always did. Getting fucked by Stanley was such a good distraction from things sometimes. He was too fucked out to worry about anything, let alone have a coherent thought. “F-Four, sir!” Bill called out, the knees he supported himself on were starting to become shakier. His words were slurring as it was harder to speak at all, let alone coherently.

“F-Five, s-sir!” He counted for the last time, though barely understandable, his arms completely gave out, succumbing to the pleasure and rendering them useless. Stanley, as always, was proud of himself, for making Bill that weak. Though his dirty talk wouldn’t let it on, Stanley considered it a privilege to be able to fuck Bill. Stanley kissed each of the prints on his ass soothingly, over and over again. Even when he was punishing him, Stanley couldn’t help but show him affection. 

“Th-thank you, sir.” Bill thanked him after his punishment, as was the norm for them. He thanked him with his reddened ass still in the air, begging for more of anything if his master was generous enough to give it to him. 

Stanley traced soft circles affectionately on the untouched skin of the backs of his thighs. Which, was a sharp contrast to what he was also doing; pulling his leash taunt. 

“Your daddy always takes care of you… and you want to disobey my rules.” Stanley practically spat; and the groan that ensued from his little puppy were only words of encouragement to keep going. 

“You’re so lucky to have me… always making sure you cum… even when you don’t deserve to. Always making sure you have cute things to get fucked in...” Stanley continued, as he ripped what little fabric that covered him off of body; Bill whimpered at the act of dominerence. Bill knew that saying anything would earn him no points and do him no favours, so he allowed his slutty little moans to do all the talking for him.

“Turn around, but stay on your knees. Don’t do anything else until I tell you.”

And Bill did what he was told as soon as the words were spoken; terribly excited for whatever Stanley was going to ask him to do. 

Bill stared up at Stanley with blue eyes that looked as deep and as captivating my beautiful as the ocean. He didn’t even care if it was noticeable that he was fawning over Bill, he was just so fucking in love with the man on his knees for him. 

Bill’s eyes opened wider as he saw Stanley’s hand quickly go to the front of his jeans, fingers graving against a bulge that pushed against his pants quite noticeably. He blushed, knowing he had such an effect on Stanley was still such a shock to him. His nimble fingers undo the brass button of his levi’s, and pull down his zipper. And in a swift 

Bill was faced with Stanley’s hard member in front of him just as he had been so many times and he salivated at the sight, and the thought of it in his mouth- choking on it. He knew better than to do anything with Stanley giving him explicit permission, so he stayed silent, and obediently waited with excitement. 

His dick twitched as Bill’s eager breaths ghosted against it, and Stanley entangled his fingers into Bill’s hair absently, on reflex. He soothing ran his fingers through his auburn tresses, which was a sharp contrast with his tugging on his leash, pulling it taunt and forcing him to look up at him. Brown eyes met blue; and both of them radiated the exact same look of deep, lustful hunger. 

“You’re such a good pet for me... tell me more about how much you love my cock…” Stanley cooed, wanting to have his ego stroked. Which, Bill was always willing, able, and ardent to do so. Stanley smirked as he sat in waiting, but didn’t wait for too long. 

Bill swallowed hard, and tried to summon his words forward, and articulate every sinful thought that grossed his mind. Trying to be as lewd as possible, trying to earn back points in his favour. He did want to be given permission to cum at some point today.

“I don’t deserve to suck it… I don't deserve to have it all to myself. I’m so lucky to be your pet... your little bitch. I… just wanna suck you off all day- I want to get fucked by you all day. Please let me suck it, please-“ Bill felt so degraded by saying that, and loved every second of the pit in his stomach. He felt blood rush to his own exposed cock as Stanley’s brows furrowed at him. Bill’s dirty talk was so impressive it threw Stanley for a loop; and hit him like a punch to the stomach and knocked the wind out of him. But, Stanley would never concede to that, especially while in domspace.

Bill could tell he had affected him however, he knew his subtle cues just as well as Stanley knew his. The way his adam’s apple bobbled, and shoulders tensed- Bill had him right where he wanted. Not to mention, he could see a bead of precum teasing the pinkish head of his exposed member. 

“You can beg for it a bit better than that? can’t you? beg, go on, beg.” Stanley encouraged, with palpable condescension in his sultry voice. It wasn’t good enough, and Bill was determined to be good enough. 

“Please... master. Please, please let me suck you off- I know I was a bad little puppy for being disobedient, but I promise to follow every single rule if it means I can have your cock in my mouth-“

“F-fuck,” Stanley cursed under his breath, momentarily thrown out of ‘character’. 

“Go on... you’ve earned it, don’t make me change my mind.” Stanley told him, like he was allowing him the privilege out of the kindness of his heart. The patronage made his own do loopty loops. 

Bill eagerly took Stanley’s erection in his hands, and Stanley’s eyelids fell half lidded at the feeling of his soft skin on his member. Bill placed soft, little kisses and licks at the head of it, savouring the salty taste of precum that fell on his tongue. Stanley muttered ‘tease’ under his breath. Bill did all of this while making unbreaking eye contact, like he knew how he liked. Stanley wanted to look deep into his eyes as he ruined him; and Bill wanted to see the hunger and depravity in Stanley’s eyes whenever he did so. 

Bill hollowed his cheeks as he finally took his length past his lips and sank his head down upon it. Impaling his own throat against it over and over; swirling his tongue around his cock to cover every inch of it in his glistening saliva. He felt so sinful doing this all in the mid afternoon- when both of them had much better things to be doing, more pressing matters to attend to; rather than fucking. 

Bill gently scraped his teeth against the length of his shaft as he bobbed his head up and down. He dipped his tongue into the slit of his cock as well, again, how he knew Stanley liked it. Stanley was easy to please after all these years because he knew exactly what his preferences were; and that extensive knowledge thankfully went both ways. 

And, he couldn’t help himself, Bill just felt too damn good. And Stanley wanted more of that goodness. In fact, he was willing to take it; he unceremoniously fucked into Bill’s mouth. Simulating sex as he forced his cock down his throat. Every inch of his erection was worshiped in Bill’s wet heat. 

“You’re such a little slut. You’re such a fucking slave for it? huh?” Stanley asked, roughly. 

Bill nodded profusely, tears welling up in his eyes as his gag reflex was being pushed to its absolute limit. Stanley’s hand in his hair, tugging at him and thrusting into his throat; went around the column of his throat. Stanley was gripping Bill’s neck tightly and choking him; all while still thrusting into his mouth. And, while pulling on his leash to keep him there, and Bill felt drool drip down his chin as he moaned with his mouth stuffed with cock. He felt a tear drip down his face as well to join it. Crying at the painful pleasure, not in sadness or discomfort. 

Bill used his hands and lips together in unison to try and keep up with the pace set by Stanley’s hips. He swallowed around his length as it was abused over and over again. 

“Open up, puppy. I’m gonna cum soon.” Stanley said over the sound of skin slapping skin; trying to up the intensity of his thrusts as he was nearing his end. 

Bill nodded, indicating that he was okay with that. 

“I’m gonna finish on that pretty face of yours. Gonna make it even prettier….” and Bill felt a tinge of embarrassment for being flattered by, and blushing at Stanley’s filthy half-praise. 

Stanley pulled out from Bill’s mouth after one last pistoning into the back of his throat. He sensed his impending release soon approaching, they both did. 

And white ropes spurt from his cock to cover the pale face of his lover. And Stanley would attest until the day he died that Bill never looked prettier than when his hair was messy and freshly pulled, lips were red and swollen, cheeks were blushed; with spunk all over his face. A strand of Bill’s saliva still connected the head of his dick to his plump and abused bottom lip. 

Stanley brought his thumb to his lip and wiped it off affectionately. ‘Breaking his character’ so to speak, for a soft moment of tender affection. He was more than happy to let it fall on its sword. Bill smiled as he took the pad of his digit into his mouth, sucking on it lightly, savouring the cum that was on his lips as well. 

“You always look like such a whore covered in my cum, and look at you... mouth so wide. You can’t bear to miss a drop of my cum, can you?” Stanley asked, smiling while he spoke nothing but obscenities; cocky and confident and sure of himself. 

“No, sir,” Bill spoke back in the exact same way… well, with a bit less self assurity. 

Bill’s cock was painfully hard, just from getting hit and sucking dick. He looked at Stanley with unspoken pleading; asking for permission to cum or for something that would allow him to. Namely, for more than just getting hit and sucking dick.

Stanley would show a little mercy for him, and moved himself rather than asking Bill to change positions. He was shivering, and his legs were quivering underneath him and begging to give out. Bill let out a sigh of thanks as he realized what he’d done, and, what was about to happen.

Stanley gripped the buttplug by the tail and twisted it, shoving it in deeper, than pulling it out, and repeating. Bill quickly unraveled even further, and he nearly screamed underneath him. He was so close to cumming, and these little acts were not helping.

Stanley smirked at the state he was in. 

“You’re such an obedient little puppy... you deserve to get a treat... and what’s your favourite treat of all, baby?”

Bill shivered, “My master’s cock inside of me,” he answered. He felt so embarrassed he wanted to burying his face in the comforter beneath him as to hide it. He felt so debased saying things like that; which he really liked. But, as soon as the words materialized into sentences spoken aloud, he couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed. Thank G-d Stanley was into this just as much as he was.

And, Stanley called him something to the effect of, “Good boy,” with his voice faltering, getting cut off by a groan escaping his own lips. 

Stanley was impatient, and feverishly went to their nightstand to look for lube; not particularly in the mood to get him to suck on his fingers and finger him in the achingly sensual way that they usually did. 

He held the half used bottle of strawberry scented (not flavoured- that was far too sweet and Stanley thought it tasted a bit gross) lube, and worked its contents around his length; stroking himself a few times to bring life back into his cock. 

He pulled the plug out of his ass swiftly and set that off to the side; and Bill whimpered at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Though, that feeling didn’t last long. The feeling of the bulbous metal plug was replaced by Stanley’s cock aligning with his entrance; prodding at his ring of muscle with its head. 

Stanley sank into him with no warning; taking Bill completely by surprise. And, with little prep as well, Stanley had just assumed that the plug would’ve been good enough. They usually were whenever they’d used them in previous escapades. 

The feeling of his tight, warm ass around his cock felt like heaven. He’d never get over how good it was to be buried deep inside of Bill. He dug his fingers into his hips with his freehand, no doubt drawing a bit of blood; or in the very least, marks to adore later. Stanley quickly set a quick, ravenous pace that Bill knew would make it hard to last much longer. 

Bill his face in the blankets to try and subdue his moans, and, mewls at the sharp pain as Stanley pierced into him. He angled his cock perfectly to hit his prostate every single time and Bill felt as though he was going to explode. He was a ticking time bomb and his climax was so eminent he could practically taste it. Stanley did not like him trying to hide his face or his moans; he wanted to hear them, and relish in how great he made his Bill feel. 

Stanley pulled at his leash taunt, to pull his neck back and face up; exposing every moan and every inch of the blush that covered his pale cheeks. Bill let out a high pitched gasp as Stanley pounder their hips together; the sound of skin against skin almost concealed the sound. 

“This is right where you belong… on the other end of my leash.” Stanley groaned, and Bill let out a string of whimpers as Stanley pistoned inside of him. Stanley lost himself in his own dirty talk, and was struggling to stick to the pace he set himself. 

“I’m so sorry for forgetting how lucky I am to be fucked by you- oh master I’m, so, so lucky. I love getting filled up by you. my hole is yours-“ Bill whimpered, upping the ante of his humiliating penance. 

“You’re damn right it is, cocksleeve.” Stanley hissed, and Bill did nothing but shiver, and moan loudly beneath him. Stanley growled as he bit his shoulder; marking Bill as his now and forever- or, well, as long as the mark would last. He tasted the faint hint of his blood on his tongue and lips and nearly came right there and then. 

In every day, normal life, Stanley treasured Bill; and was practically convinced heaven lay beneath his feet. But, just didn’t act like that during sex because, he saw no fun in that. 

And just as Stanley’s lips left his skin and his tongue stopped lapping up the ensuing blood; and his cock thrusted in and out of him one last time… Bill knew he was going to cum in only a matter of seconds. “C-Can I-... c-can I cum now, s-sir?” His voice indicative of his struggle to keep himself together. 

“Sure you can, baby. Go on… be good and cum for me… loud like I like,” Stanley whispered, still pulling at his leash. 

Bill came hard and fast, squirming a bit as he did so. Bill arched his head back, and Stanley pulled it back further, as he moaned mixtures of Stanley’s name, too fucked out to remember to say ‘Sir’ and Stanley was too fucked out to enforce that he did. His release got on the sheets below and on his stomach, too fucked out to care about the sticky feeling, as well. 

Pleasure hit him in strong waves, akin to the power of an ocean as deep as his eyes were. His vision fading to black as the splintering feeling coursed through him. Stanley’s cock pulsed inside of him as he fucked him through his orgasm, groaning at the way Bill’s hole clamped down on his member as he came. 

And, that gave him an idea as he approached his own release. A lewd, depraved idea that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of before. He pulled out of Bill, which was a bit unusual to the man who had no idea what he was doing. Especially because he hadn’t cum yet, and usually Stanley liked to cum inside him, and watch his spunk drip out of his hole after he pulled out. 

“Close your eyes, little one,” He told Bill, how voice was softer than it had been, and a bit warmer too. Bill smiled lazily and he did as he was told. Both, out of obedience, and because his eyes were too heavy to keep open so this was a much easier alternative. Plus, he was interested to see what surprise Stanley had planned, or rather, didn’t plan. 

Stanley got up and walked to their well organized closet; where they kept their chest full of sex toys. It was antique and remarkably inconspicuous if anyone was ever to come across it. It had guilted claw feet ends and brass embossed corners. Stanley always thought it was funny in an ironic sort of way because it was so delicately handcrafted, only to be filled with debauchery. 

He grabbed a recent new addition to their collection that Bill had yet to be aware of, a cute little dog bowl.

Bill sensed the bed sink as he got back on it. 

“You can open them now, puppy,” Stanley whispered, running a hand through his hair. 

Bill opened his eyes, and looked at the bowl and then at Stanley, and repeated this a few times before he eventually asked. “W-what's that for?” No judgment in his quiet, raspy voice, just curiosity. 

Stanley smirked, and his movements in his hair turned from soft caresses to sharp pulls. “I’m going to finish in there, and you’re going to be a good little puppy and do what I tell you to do.”

Bill watched in lust filled awe through the lashes of his half lidded eyes, as Stanley jerked himself off to completion. He bit his lip as he watched ropes of cum spurt out into the tin bowl, and at the gruff sounds he made as he released. His heart fluttered as he called out his name as he came.

“Lick it up, baby.” He directed. 

Bill nodded, and let out a soft moan as he lowered his head into the bowl, lapping up his salty cum with his greedy tongue that wanted every drop of it. 

Bill looked up, spunk and spit dripping down his chin; which he happily lapped back up into his mouth. He made eye contact with Stanley as he opened his mouth, exposing his release on his tongue, and swallowed once he saw that he was satisfied. And, showed his tongue again, to prove that he did so; sticking it out and putting it on erotic display each time, like he had something to be proud of. He licks up the rest from his lips, not wanting to miss a drop. 

He regarded Bill with awe, he was so in love with him it hurt his heart. 

Stanley pulled Bill into his arms, and pulled him close. He kissed every inch of his face as they settled. It was such a big jump, from the intensity to picture perfect relaxed domestic bliss. Stanley helped unclip and undo his tired boyfriend’s collar and set it to the side off of their bed, he could finally relax as he became limp in his arms. 

“Go to sleep, honey. Take a nap. I’ll finish the packing for the rest of the day. My good little puppy has earned it…” Stanley told him, as Bill laid down, exhausted and spent and nearly melting completely into their cozy bed. Bill felt cum leak down his thigh at the change in position, he liked it, and, was too tired to do anything about it if he didn’t. Bill yawned, “Thank you daddy, I’m a bit sleepy,” it was perfect napping weather as well. Or, at least Bill’s idea of perfect weather. It was an overcast day in Maine; it had been raining off and on this past week, it was cool- the perfect temperature where a blanket would make you the perfect amount of comfortable, and not sweat profusely. It was quiet and nice and relaxed; he was used and hurting in places in the best way possible. And, he was with his lover, sleep was tugging at him. “Of course you are darling… being a slut is very tiring, yes?” Bill said nothing, but Stanley saw his blush, which was answer enough. 

  
  


“Stay with me while I sleep..” Bill cajoled, wrapping his arms around his arm, trying to keep him there. He was preemptively pouting in case he needed that. Stanley’s black heart melted, Bill was so G-d damn cute, he wanted to be with him forever, to keep him with him forever. Stanley turned his head down to look at him, and kissed his forehead. “Where else would I rather be, little one?” He answered him with a question, assuming he would understand. And, he did- or Bill, thought he did. “Nowhere?” Bill answered, wide eyed and hopeful. Stanley thought that was absolutely adorable. He was right. “Exactly right, puppy,” He reassured him, which made Bill’s heart melt. 

  
  


“I’m gonna order you some more things while you get some rest,” Stanley said, pulling another blanket over Bill as he cuddled into his side. Bill smiled at the new feeling of warmth. Bill used his remaining energy to look up at him, “Make sure you switch the address so it comes to our new house.” He reminded meekly, voice raspy and barely above a whisper, his vocal cords as spent as his cock was, and throat as used as his hole was- the fact he could speak at all was impressive to both men. Stanley smiled at him, and ran a hand through his hair and tousled it; and pushed it behind his ear. 

  
  


“My smart puppy… always thinking ahead, what would I do without you, little one?” 

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Stanley had to get up early that morning, Bill finally had a day off, so Stanley woke up alone, and left the bedroom alone. He didn’t like it, he didn’t like it at all. Bill was usually the first one up, and that’s the routine Stanley much preferred. He liked to be woken up by Bill, not trying to avoid waking him up. But he couldn’t complain about getting to watch Bill, in such a natural, innocent state. He sat back in bed, dressed for a day, careful to not shift his weight too much to wake Bill up. Stanley watched to reach out and touch him, but didn’t. Bill’s pale cheeks still maintained their flushness, and his lips still looked bitten and a bit swollen. Stanley was so aroused just by looking, just by the idea of having his way with him. Bill shifted under the sheets, still in deep sleep, moving the fabric around him. More of Bill’s bruised and bitten skin was exposed by his movement, Stanley revelled in his work. His marks stained his skin, Stanley could look at him for hours. 

  
  


Stanley always had to hold himself back when he slept, it was always so hard to keep his cool. Bill just looked so perfect and peaceful, so preserved and still. Stanley pressed a soft kiss to his lips, unable to resist as he watched him. His hazy morning exhales tickled his skin. He missed getting to see him, getting to talk to him. But, he deserved his day off, so he let him rest. So instead, he wrote a note for Bill, and waited for his sweet good morning nothings to be discovered. 

  
  


And it was discovered, by a very sleepy Bill who had just woken up. His newly awoken eyes struggled to adjust the light that peered through their bedroom’s blinds. He yawned and stretched his arms as he did so, he cringed at the soreness and tension of his muscles, the after result of pain was well worth it. He pulled the blankets he was tucked into back, and saw what he always looked forward to seeing. The bites that decorated the skin of his thighs and neck, the fingernail imprints on his hips, and the rope burns and marks on his wrists. A fond happiness bubbled inside of his chest, he smiled immediately at the sight of them. Memories of last night danced in his head at the sight of them as well, he was, above all, happy.

  
  


So caught up in his happiness, he nearly didn’t notice that his partner who went to bed with him, wasn’t there when he woke up. He called quietly for him a few times, his voice still a bit hoarse and throat a bit sore. No answer, this peaked Bill’s interest, and dulled his happiness ever so slightly. He didn’t like to wake up without Stanley. He looked around the room for clues or something, anything to maybe explain away Stanley’s absence. His detective skills second nature, his natural instinct. A piece of folded paper on their dresser caught his eye, he got up out of bed and walked over to investigate further. 

  
  


“ Good morning, my precious little puppy. You were amazing last night, as always. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to wake you up, but, I had come into work early today. I knew you had the day off & I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so pretty and peaceful, I can’t believe I got out of bed, it hurt to leave you ♡ I’ll be back as soon as I can, I love you. Try to call me when you get the chance?

\- Stan ”

  
  


Bill smiled, he hadn’t left him a note like this in awhile, because Bill always woke up first. The longer Bill thought of it, he hadn’t seen Stanley’s handwriting in quite some time. Bill usually did the grocery shopping and errands of the house, so Stanley never wrote grocery lists. And, Bill hated math and didn’t understand it, so, he never ever wanted to see Stanley’s work if he ever did some at home. It was rare to see his writing, it was nice. He picked it up, and held the piece of paper gingerly in his hand, and looked at it fondly. He felt a grin creep on his face. 

  
  


The longer he looked at the note, it looked strangely familiar. Perversely familiar. Familiar in a way it shouldn’t have been, but he couldn’t place it. The longer he thought about it, and the longer he studied the curves of the cursive, and the way every letter was perfectly spaced between the ones next to it... it resonated. And suddenly, like a vault was unlocked in the deepest recesses of his mind, he placed it. That was the same handwriting as the Barrens Butcher. The same note that Bill had spent months analyzing, studying and had kept him up late, and had kept him at his desk at the department even later. 

  
  


Bill rushed out of the bedroom and into the hall, where he knew he still had evidence packed away in a moving box to take with him to his next precinct. Sure, it wasn’t very ethical, but, this case would, and always be, a passion project of his. He was committed to seeing the killer brought to justice, and he was terrified that possibly... the killer was under his nose this whole time.

  
  


More than under his nose. The killer was between his thighs, waking up beside him every morning, inside of him, and going to sleep beside him every night. The killer made him eggs for breakfast exactly how he liked them, the killer bought him flowers just because, the killer made him soup when he was sick, the killer kissed him silly right after he graduated from the academy. The killer was proud of him, the killer made a life with him. The killer was in love with him, and Bill loved the killer too. He prayed to whatever was above that the handwriting didn’t match. It couldn’t match. He wouldn’t let it match. He wouldn’t accept it if it did. 

  
  


With shaky hands, he frantically ripped the box open, in a panic to look for a box cutter- though he was sure he’d accidentally cut more than just the box even if he had one. His hands weren’t steady enough for that. He found the folder, then the file in question. He almost didn’t want to open it. It couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t let it be true. 

  
  


He opened up the file, and he flipped through everything, for two reasons. He had to go through a bunch of different pictures, witness statements and evidence descriptions to find it. And, also to remind himself exactly who this killer was in case the note did match. He couldn’t let the fact that Stanley was his boyfriend, distract him from the fact the killer was Stanley... if it even was Stanley. Thankfully, the memory refreshing wouldn’t take too long. There weren’t many evidence descriptions however, the “Barrens butcher” didn’t really leave much evidence. The file was thin, brief. Bill was impressed by its brevity. “If Stanley was a serial killer, at least he was a good one,” Bill noted, with a tinge of guilty pride, but pride nonetheless. “Ew, did I really just think that?” Bill asked himself, disappointed in himself for even entertaining that. 

  
  


There it was, in its bagged, preserved, and blood stained glory. The note the “Barrens Butcher” left at the scene of his second murder, taunting the victim and the investigators that would eventually come onto the scene. It was a special kind of self assurity that led you to believe you were smart enough to get away with a murder, and be so sure of it, that you’d leave a note. And to also sign it, “you wish.”... Bill was flabbergasted, honestly. That was the type of dry humour that was quintessential Stanley, Bill was worried now. This was probably Stanley’s handwriting. He wished he could get a closer look, but his hands were shaking so frantically the writing was a bit blurry, 

  
  


It was strangely attractive how cocky he was, while he was investigating someone unnamed, the cockiness got under his skin. Now that he knew just who wrote it, it was... oddly hot. Stanley was so sure of himself... so smart, so cunning. Bill had no idea what he was saying anymore. He just needed to compare these notes before he lost his mind- or guilted himself into an early grave. 

  
  


The similarities of both of the letter’s perfect cursive chilled him to the core. This was undoubtedly, written by Stanley. The fact he wasn’t frozen solid, surprised him. 

  
  


He clutched the handwritten note; senses failed, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe. Bill watched his whole life crash and burn around him in an instant. He didn’t know his soulmate. Stanley Donald Uris, the supposed love of his life, was a stranger. Suddenly, the man he was supposed to spend his life with, was a monster. A monster he didn’t know. And that’s what hurt Bill the most. They were supposed to spend a life together, and that whole plan was ruined. He couldn’t spend a life with a serial killer- or could he? No. He squashed that thought as soon as it came to him, he felt guilt wash over him. He couldn’t just pretend this didn’t happen- or could he?

  
  


Bill wanted to look away from the notes, but he couldn’t. The handwriting sample and it’s newfound match was so hauntingly captivating, he couldn’t look away if he wanted to. He squeaked in response to the empty room. He was alone in the room, and in that moment, he felt totally alone in life in general. Tears streamed down his face, blue eyes forced shut. Tears fell down his cheeks but he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel a thing, but at the same time he felt everything all at once. Bill could feel his heart drop in his chest. though at this moment, that was an understatement. It felt more like his body was plummeting twenty stories, his heart along with him. Maybe he had even landed on his heart, this was how badly it hurt. 

  
  


The hands that had written those notes, the hands that had signed the lease on their first apartment together, the hands that had held his, faithfully, since they were young, had taken a life. Several lives. So many lives. And Bill knew that better than anyone on the police force, better than anyone in Maine quite frankly. His old boss put him in charge of pretty much everything concerning the case. He did most of the actual physical detective work: knocking on doors, taking witness statements, etc. If he was a qualified crime scene preserver, he probably would’ve been the one to bring the bodies to the morgue. He also was usually the one put in charge of comforting the families of victims. His old commanding officer used to say it was because, “People like... you, are more sensitive by nature. It would be better for them to talk with someone like.... you.” Bill cringed at the recollection, but was happy the memory distracted him from what he was already busy thinking about. 

  
  


Bill knew first hand the true devastation the actions of the killer, his boyfriend had. He couldn’t believe he was considering letting this all slide. With even shakier hands, he wiped his tears away. His old boss. “Fuck.” Bill audibly sighed, as the realization hit him.

  
  


Everything made so much sense now, the pieces were put together in his head without even trying. He complains to Stanley about his boss, the next day, he’s found dead. Every time he expressed slight, complicated gratitude that his boss was finally gone and couldn’t bother him anymore- Stanley was a bit too eager to hear, and a bit too eager to make him feel less guilty for feeling that way. It all felt so ominous now. Bill felt like an idiot for not putting that together quicker. He tried to be kinder to himself- how could he have known? But he also felt so guilty that he didn’t. He could only imagine how his family felt. Picture frames of his wife and kids took up space on his commanding officer’s desk, in the same way pictures of him and Stanley throughout the years took up Bill’s. He saw them at the funeral, they were distraught. Could Bill have prevented all of that? Bill was going to be sick, he knew for sure he was going to throw up if he thought about that any longer. He rested against the hallway wall, sure his legs would give out if he didn’t lean on it for support. 

  
  


He guessed he should’ve put things together quicker. It was always unnerving how all of his victims were causuasian men in their late 20s- his age. Had auburn or dark brown hair- his colour. Had blue eyes- his eye colour. And were between 5’9-6’1, his height range, and, shorter than Stanley… exactly how he liked his boys. Bill’s heart sank even deeper at all the possible reasons the victims looked… so similar to him. 

  
  


Was he responsible for this? Was there blood on his hands too? He couldn’t stop thinking about that. His mind was racing with thoughts of alternate realities. What would’ve happened, what could’ve happened, if things were different. Maybe if he chose his words better, if he didn’t rant so colourfully, if he just bit his tongue. Could a life have been spared?

  
  


Or were all these victims dying in the place of him, were all these innocent men victims, just so he himself didn’t have to die. Was Stanley saving Bill by doing this to others, because in the end, Stanley craved a complete submission that Bill could never fully give him? 

Well, yes. But, Bill didn’t put that together yet. 

Or, alternatively, if he could’ve been a better detective, could lives have been saved? Not just his old boss. Was his incompetence just as much to blame? Sure, there was an entire force of his colleagues who didn’t figure it out either. But still, their failing was just as much his. Something else haunted him the more he thought of it. And the longer the thought lingered, the more he couldn’t help but dwell on it until it physically hurt him. 

  
  


Why had Stanley let him come so close to revealing it? Was everything just a clue waiting to be discovered that he’d overlooked? Why had he left a note for him, knowing full well the evidence he kept? Why did Stanley let him keep evidence to begin with? Why did he want to find out? 

  
  


Was it for the thrill? Did Stanley like walking on eggshells, and constantly keeping track of the white lies he came up with on the spot, and sorting out all his alibis and cover stories. Were all the late nights and phone calls explaining them away just him toeing the line, coming as close to being caught as possible? “Oh my fucking G-d.... did he ever call me from a fucking murder?” Bill asked internally, his thoughts so loud he wondered if he’d accidentally spoken them aloud. He was shaking now. 

  
  


Or was it because Stanley believed he’d never solve it. Did the person he love most in the world, not have any faith in him? His head was spinning, too busy thinking all at once to focus on one thing. 

  
  


He had the key, the evidence to put Stanley away forever. And, that was probably just the tip of the iceberg. He could probably find and unearth an entire conspiracy, an entire case against him based on evidence found in their home if he looked hard enough. And yet, he didn’t want to put it forth. He couldn’t bring himself to present it, and he knew he’d never be able to. He felt awful, he felt so selfish. He could get so many people closer, so many people justice. But, he couldn’t send the love of his life to jail. 

  
  


He’d never been so conflicted. Bill was disgusted, but at the same time, he couldn’t wait for Stanley to finally come home. Bill missed him, and he couldn’t stand himself for it. He’d debate a course of action relentlessly in the confines of his thoughts, but until then, he’d miss Stanley. He’d miss Stanley, he’d wait for him to come home eagerly, waiting by the door. He’d watch as Stanley made him his favourite dinner while he didn’t have a clue; unbeknownst to him, Bill knew his biggest secret. They’d end the day as they always did; sex. And Bill would end the day as he always did; wrapped in Stanley’s arms, possessively, protectively. Normalcy could last, for one more day at least. Normalcy could last, if for the first time ever, it was a farce. Because it wasn’t normal. Bill was dying a little bit inside every minute he thought of it, every minute since the handwritings proved to be a match. He was wilting like a flower without water, and at the same time he was drowning in his thoughts. 

  
  


He traced over the marks Stanley left that night with his fingers. Feeling where his hands were, savouring where his lips still lingered in the form of purple and pink marks. Reluctantly, he looked forward to seeing him again. And even more reluctantly, in the deepest recesses of his heart, where common sense went to die, and lovestruck whimsy took over, he decided to hold onto the evidence. For now, at least. 

  
  


He waited for Stanley to come home, and the second he saw him standing in the doorway, smiling happily, Bill’s face immediately mirrored his, just as it always did.

  
  


Stanley had no idea. He had no idea Bill had any idea. The second he looked into those deep brown eyes his mind was made up without even a thought. Stanley had no idea Bill had any idea, and Bill decided as he ran into Stanley’s arms like he always did, he’d keep that facade up forever. 

  
  


“I’m so happy to see you, darling,” Stanley cooed, spinning him around in his strong arms, Bill’s feet barely touching the ground as he picked him up. Bill would’ve felt weightless if he could feel anything at all.

“And I’m even happier,” Bill replied, everything around him was all a blur.

Stanley hugged him like it had been years since they’d seen each other, every second away from Bill felt like an eternity for him, covering his face in soft kisses as Bill tried to ask him how his day was. Bill pretended to have no idea, and as Stanley took his coat off, and set his briefcase down at the table in their foyer, as he started to tell a work anecdote Bill was only half listening to. Bill had no idea, and he decided no one would ever have any idea.

Except, they wouldn’t be just pretending. Bill reluctantly let himself be enamoured and enthralled in all that Stanley had to give him, as he always had been. As selfish as that might’ve been. Bill was actually considering turning the other cheek, as long as Stanley was willing to kiss it.

  
  


⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ 

  
  


Bill watched as the fire embers flickered, burning bright and orange, and also into his memory forever. He knew he should’ve felt guilt, but he didn’t. Not even a tinge. He knew it was wrong, but at the same time, couldn’t bring himself to condemn his actions, even internally. The flames in the fire pit of his backyard consumed the evidence file whole, leaving nothing behind but its ash. Every note, every photograph, every witness statement. Gone, just as they should be. Gone from his memory too, or at least, he’d try to forget them. He knew he wasn’t thinking clearly, he knew this wasn’t rational, or even right quite frankly, but he was in love. So sickly sweet and deeply in love he couldn’t have seen reason if he wanted to. His heart pounded as he watched, the cool air of the night nipped at the apples of his cheeks, before a gust of heat radiated from the flames warming him up. Shiver, wartm, shiver, warmth. The cycle repeated as he watched, the stars twinkling above him were his only company for the moment. He was on edge, anxious even, at the thought of Stanley coming outside to see what he was doing.

  
  


Would he be mad that he hadn’t told him what he knew? What he’d seen? Would he be happy he’d just done that? Would he be upset with him for lying? Because, lying by omission was still a lie. He knew better to panic or lose sleep over worrying whether Stanley would ever hurt him, he knew him better than to think he’d do that. But then again, he thought he knew him well enough to automatically assume he wasn’t the Barrens Butcher. He tried his best to keep his thoughts at bay as he waited for the evidence of his lover’s crimes to be finally destroyed. 

  
  


He was given no choice to keep his thoughts at bay, he heard the patio door slide open and closed repeatedly. Stanley liked to do things in his comfort number, and once felt at peace with the door being closed for good, he joined Bill, with a warm blanket in hand. He saw Bill sitting outside by a fire and got lonely, he missed his Bill's presence even if only absent for a moment. And, he worried about him getting cold, he knew Bill didn’t care for the cold. Even if he was by a fire, Stanley couldn’t not worry, he’d be a bad boyfriend if he didn’t. 

  
  


Even at first glance, Bill was visibly nervous, he noticeably jumped when Stanley greeted him which Bill never did. Because, when you live with someone for so long, their presence isn’t a surprise anymore, you always anticipate hearing their voice out of the blue. It was like Bill was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Stanley picked up on this. This peaked Stanley’s interest in a bad sort of way, he was worried about him. Had he done something wrong, was his Bill hiding something from him? He was usually such an open book, if Bill was hiding something, it must’ve been bad. Stanley shuddered at the thought, but nevertheless, he went outside and did what he came outside to do. 

  
  


“I saw you were sitting outside and I didn’t want you to be cold,” Stanley murmured kindly, wrapping Bill’s shoulders in the fuzzy flannel blanket he’d brought from inside. Stanley had bought it because it reminded him of the shirts Bill wore when he was out of uniform, if he looked in their closet (when finally unpacked and in their new house) it would be a safe bet to assume he’d have a button up shirt or two to match. Bill had a flannel for every combination of red, green, black and blue that existed out there. The blanket was similar to the one he was wearing now, ironically. 

  
  


Bill accepted the kind gesture grateful, and nuzzled into Stanley once he sat down next to him, offering some of his body heat to him. Stanley saw Bill get a but intense but still, it wasn’t good enough for him. Bill kissed both sides of his cheeks as he thanked him sincerely, trying to pretend everything was normal and that everything was fine. It most certainly was not. It was so convincing and reassuring that Stanley almost believed him. Keyword there being: almost. Stanley knew him too well to fall for this. 

  
  


“Thank you, Stanley,” Bill said again, heart rushing full of love for his boyfriend as if he wasn’t sitting in front of the flames he’d ignited to light the evidence of the homicides on fire. A large part of his conscience told

him “Who cares if he’s done wrong, he’s still nice to you, right?” but that voice got sucker punched by his morality every time. But… it was boring to be moral. He wanted to indulge. 

  
  


“Don’t mention it, my doll.” Stanley replied, voice laced with sweet sin that made Bill want to indulge all the more. He’d chase the undeniable happiness Stanley had always managed to awake inside of him like no other to the ends of the fucking eaten if he needed to. It was worth it. The way Stanley made him feel was worth it. Stanley Uris was worth it. Every second of doubt, every second of pain. Because it was replaced by hours of love, hours of answers, hours of reasons, hours of new reasons to fall in love, years of being loved faithfully. 

  
  


Stanley’s next comments changed the tone from where it was starting to go. 

  
  


“If I knew you wanted to do this, I would’ve gotten marshmallows on my way home from work” Stanley commented with a slight laugh, his words almost sauntered out of his mouth. His tone was calm, slow; and hoped that if he was calm, Bill would be too. 

“What did you say?” Bill asked, his tone was politely on edge, not because of Stanley, but it was clear his mind was somewhere else completely, dwelling on something different. Stanley didn’t like that, he wanted his mind to be on him, thinking about him. Little did he know, he’d already gotten his wish, for a different reason. “Marshmallows... for s’mores,” Stanley replied slowly, but with no sense of condescension. Stanley was not a patient man, but, he’d always make the exception for his Bill. Bill smiled and nodded, understanding now. “Oh, yes. That would be fun,” Bill said, smile more genuine and less of an act, but an act nonetheless. He shivered into Stanley’s touch as he put an arm around him for all the wrong reasons, but that was the one thing Stanley couldn’t pick up on. It wasn’t apprehension, it wasn’t guilt, it was his self conscious telling him he should feel those things. And because he didn’t, he felt bad. 

  
  


He kept his eyes on the steady embers, watching the papers burn. 

  
  


“Our new yard will be a lot bigger, maybe we can get a dog… a labrador retriever like you’ve always said you wanted,” Stanley spoke up again, the silence felt weird for some reason so he wanted to fill it with something- even if it was just vapid conversation. He knew Bill wanted a dog so, maybe talking about something he wanted would make him happy? Or at least happier. Or hell, at least get his attention away from the fire he couldn’t figure out why Bill was staring at. Stanley hoped so anyways. 

  
  


“Really?” Bill asked hopefully, so hopefully it made Stanley’s heart soar just to regard him. Bill’s eyes lit up and had a certain kind of a sparkle- it was as if he promised to give him a million dollars. Stanley wished he’d brought it up sooner. Stanley knew he’d always wanted a dog, Bill loved dogs so much. He always was the officer that volunteered to train the german shepard’s at work but, they were both too busy to take care of a puppy. And, not to mention the thought of all the mess and unpredictability that came with a dog made Stanley anxious. 

  
  


“Yes! What was it you wanted to name it?” Stanley asked, trying to get him to warm up to him, Bill had been acting differently today and it didn’t sit right with him. He knew his bill, and this usually worked. “Rapid,” Bill answered, his voice audibly lighter, happier. A smile even had the nerve to creep onto his face. The name had come from the title of a book Bill had always been meaning to write. He wanted to give the name a new life since he’d never use it for its original purpose. He’d always wanted to become an author but it never really worked out. His life had taken him in a million different directions, he never had the time to sit down and write his thoughts coherently. The way he saw things, his time was better spent doing his real job, rather than pine after another career. Perhaps he was a writer in a previous life. 

  
  


“Rapid it is then, my love,” Stanley replied, satisfied with himself when Bill snuggled up even closer to him. 

They fell into a comfortable silence as they watched the fire. Bill let out a satisfied sigh, and crawled into his lap. 

  
  


“C’mere, darlin’” Stanley purred, holding him tighter. 

  
  


And suddenly, a scrap of paper in the heart of the fire was picked up by the wind and blown at a slightly different angle, allowing Stanley’s eyes to catch one last glance at it before a spark consumed it all. It was a photo, and not just any photo- Stanley remembered that picture. He remembered that day. He remembered that day. It was a picture of a severed torso in the creaks of the barrens, his fourth victim which he’d laid to rest there. That was an evidence photo from a case that he thought Bill had no idea was about him. Stanley knew that picture, but he had no idea Bill did. 

Emotions engulfed him as if his own heart was made of a blazing inferno, passion burned him alive. He’d pretend he didn’t know that Bill knew until he brought it up or told him outright. Stanley had his own fair share of secrets, and he’d let Bill keep his to himself for as long as he wanted. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered. 

All that mattered was that Bill found out- and clearly didn’t care. And clearly still loved him, or at least still cared about him enough to help him get away with his crimes and burn his evidence. And whichever it was, whether it be the ladder or the former, was more than enough. Because Stanley knew Bill would see the truth eventually, or at least Stanley’s version of the truth. That this was all for Bill… to keep him safe and to keep him safe, and that Stanley did what he did to protect him. He knew his Bill would come around, he smiled at the thought of it even. Fuck, Stanley loved his Bill so much… too much.

  
  


But for now; Stanley needed to kiss him, he desperately needed to thank him properly. 

  
  


He finally felt Bill relax in his strong arms, he felt his spine relax and shoulders untense. Stanley pulled him even more onto his lap, brushing Bill’s crotch over his knee intentionally, giving him a taste of what he was about to have. Bill let out a sigh, anticipation already making him dizzy and struggling to breathe. Even after all this time, and all his thoughts clouding his judgement, nothing could quell his need for him; his hunger for him. Their lips were mere millimeters away from each other, and though they’d kissed so many times, they’d both craved each other’s tastes as if it was their first time. 

  
  


“Please… Stanley….” Bill mewled, begging already and he’d barely been touched. Bill had no idea what made Stanley suddenly so ready to have sex right there and then, but Bill wanted it if Stanley did. And fuck, Stanley definitely wanted it. His own cock was starting to strain against his pants at the thought of taking Bill right out in the open like this, and seeing what a wreck Bill was close to becoming. Stanley wasn’t sure what his favourite part of sex was. Seeing the process of getting Bill off, Bill getting off, or seeing the debauched aftermath of Bill getting off. It was all just so fucking incredible, Stanley could hardly wait. He could never hardly wait. He wasn’t a patient person, and it showed in moments like this. He could never wait to get Bill off agonizingly slowly, savouring every inch of skin his lover showed him. But tonight was not one of those nights. He needed to be in his lover, now. He needed to hear him moan, to hear him scream. And he decided he’d be lucky enough to let his neighbours hear it better than they’ve ever heard it before. This was his voyeuristic parting gift of sorts to them. Because, undoubtably they had heard Bill before, just muffled through walls and insulation. Loud little minx, Bill was. They were a dangerous combination, Bill loved to make noise, and Stanley loved to hear it. And, Stanley was also knowledgeable on how to get Bill to make noises, and was damn good at sex so… their neighbours probably had gotten an earful over the years. 

  
  


Stanley bit back a moan just thinking of Bill all spread out for him. Stanley was a lot better at hiding his want and his need. A perfect liar. 

  
  


“Pardon me?” Stanley asked, giving Bill an opportunity to repeat himself, reminding him of the little game they’d been playing lately, and that he’d like to continue that for tonight. Bill was more than willing to comply. Bill shivered at the tone of his voice, and at the teasing hands going up his torso that made it hard to speak. “S-sorry. Please… Sir,” Bill corrected, voice quivering as his body was. He could feel Stanley’s breath ghost against his jaw as he traced his lips over the curve of the bone there. The tracing was so featherlight it was as if Bill was imagining it. “Fuck… you’re hot.” Stanley replied huskily, his voice lowering an octave or too, betraying how badly he wanted him. Finally, Stanley closed the gap between their mouths.

  
  


Their kiss was frantic and hungry. They didn’t even bother with the playful, chaste kiss, followed by a passionate one, that slowly became more heated when Stanley licked at Bill’s lips to explore inside, and access was always granted. That was how their kisses usually went, that was the usual routine. Not tonight. Things started with the frantic intensity that rivaled that of a fire 3 times the size of the one in front of them. 

  
  


Stanley bit at Bill’s lips as they continued, hoping to leave as many marks as possible. Fucking Bill was the only time Stanley ever wanted there to be evidence that he was there. Bill groaned each time he felt teeth graze his skin and bite into his plump bottom lip even slightly. 

  
  


They paused every few seconds to catch their breath, their lips barely touching and the tips of their noses just barely touching too. They were both so dizzy, and both so head over heels for each other it wasn’t even funny. Their eyes opened just slightly, they could barely make out each other’s eye colour. But they came to the same consensus- their eyes were so much prettier up close, up this close, even if they could barely see. 

  
  


They picked up exactly where they left off each time, kissing hard, loving the clicking sounds their teeth made together as they got more frantic and much more heated. Bill sucked on Stanley’s tongue and savoured their combined tastes, he loved each second of sex because it meant they were the closest they’d ever be; closer to being one person rather than two. They’d always been so intense, so passionate. Bill wasn’t sure wether he believed in heaven or hell or not, or souls and the like. But, even knowing what he now did, every day he was with Stanley, he was more and more convinced that they were the same soul in two different bodies. They loved each other so much, they shared the same wish that they could be this close together every second of every day. 

  
  


Stanley’s frantically wandering hands rested on Bill’s clothed chest. He rubbed Bill’s perked nipples through the fabric of his shirt. The cold of the air and his arousal made them so hard and sensitive. Bill let out a sigh that wasn’t soft at all into his mouth, Stanley grunted as he heard it, making Bill even weaker. 

  
  


Stanley moved away from his lips and started kissing at the untainted territory of Bill’s jawline and throat. Bill’s breathing became louder and more and more irregular each time Stanley’s lips touched his skin, every time Stanley’s teeth bit and nipped at his flesh. Stanley bit and kissed the supple skin of his lover’s neck. He ghosted hot, steamy breath over the sensitive skin, and sucked new life into the fading hickies on his jawline and throat column. Bill could wear concealer for all he cared, Stanley was only concerned with one thing and one thing only: marking his lover up, so he’d have no choice but to look in the mirror and know that he was his. Stanley quickly unbuttoned a few buttons of Bill’s flannel. Bill mewled at the air touching his chest, shivering at the cold and at the exposer. 

  
  


Achingly slowly, Stanley kissed a line from his lips, down his jaw, down the middle of his throat, to his collarbones. Stanley traced the bone with his tongue over and over again until it glistened. He lined the ridge of protruding bone with blushes of purple and blue, Bill nearly came in his pants when he noticed Stanley had bitten hard enough to draw blood. Stanley’s lips were stained blood and it left faint kiss marks along the rest of his pale chest as he pecked him softly. Bill felt himself leak out almost vile amounts of precum at the sight. He didn’t know why he liked it so much but he did. 

  
  


He always questioned why exactly he liked it so much to be hurt, degraded and marked. He always felt so… depraved. Depraved in the best way possible, but even so. Depraved nonetheless. 

  
  


Bill was already so hard and nothing had barely happened yet, Stanley could feel his erection and was endlessly pleased. This did nothing but fan the flames of his ego. 

  
  


Speaking of fire, Stanley absentmindedly threw in a stack of old magazines that Bill had brought out to keep the fire going. He didn’t look to see what he’d done, or even if they’d made it in, he didn’t want to take his eyes off of Bill for a second. He heard the sizzle and trusted his aim was accurate. He liked the quiet soundtrack of cracklings and simmering as he teased, tasted and bit his lover to no end. It was soothingly sensual. 

  
  


Their erections pressed together through several layers of clothes, they both felt like they were both in heaven. So close but yet so far away.

  
  


Stanley called Bill’s attention away from his thoughts by bites at his chest- the last of tonight’s unexplored territory. Well, the last of it that he could reach as of then at least. He sucked bites into his skin, and soothed them over with his tongue and a kiss. Bill liked this pattern very very much. Three kisses for every bite was a great trade off. His tongue trailed all the way to Bill’s nipples, and Bill was so happy to finally get more than just touches over clothes. This was a start. 

  
  


Stanley’s tongue briefly teased one his nipples before sucking it into his mouth. He always made the most divinely sinful sounds as he did so, it made Bill melt every single time. He tortured the bud between his teeth, flicked it with the tongue that always knew just what to do to Bill. Swirling his tongue over and around it, over and over again as Bill called out into the night each time. Screaming ‘Sir!’ until his throat burned. Spit dripped down his chest and got his shirt wet. Stanley’s nimble fingers worked on the other one, pinching it, twisting it, rolling it between the pad of his slightly calloused thumb. Both of his nipples were hard as Stanley alternated between them for awhile, working them over until Bill was shaking in his lap. 

  
  


Bill was embarrassed by how much he liked it, how sensitive he was. In his mind, having sensitive nipples was an inherently feminine thing- something only girls liked. But, it felt so fucking good Bill almost didn’t mind if it was really meant for girls. 

  
  


Bill twisted against Stanley’s lap as he sat on it; withered away on it. He needed friction so badly it hurt, and he contorted to try and get a taste of it. 

  
  


Bill rubbed up against his thigh, wanting to get all the satisfaction he could get. He was quickly coming undone, and he knew that if Stanley continued to touch him like he was, he’d get there a lot sooner rather than later. He moaned at the feeling of his knee against his thighs, his bone rubbing up against his aching cock. The feeling of precum in his boxers and pants should've been so gross but it wasn’t, he needed release now. 

  
  


He tried to be subtle but that was something he never did right even in the most stable of headspaces. And especially not when he was horny out of his fucking mind. 

  
  


Stanley noticed nearly immediately, and laughed a full of himself, kind of a laugh that sent more chills down Bill’s spine. Bill was excited because he knew he was about to be told off, about to be insulted and verbally humiliated in front of his audience of zero. 

  
  


“Slut. Don’t think I don’t notice you fucking yourself on my thigh.” Stanley pulled away to whisper, Bill whimpered at the name and the loss of contact. And Stanley thought that was all too cute, Bill was always so touch starved… as if he had a reason to be. 

  
  


“ ‘M sorry sir. I just.. want you,” Bill admitted shyly, but his mind was too clouded with arousal to be able to be embarrassed. He was only thinking about one thing now. 

  
  


“Well don’t let me stop you. Go on, ride your daddy’s thigh until you cum.” And that was all Stanley needed to say before Bill feverishly continued, rubbing up against the clothed muscles of his thigh, setting such a quick pace that Stanley was almost impressed. He sat back and watched the show, of his pretty Bill getting ready to unfold right in front of him; right on him. 

  
  


“Oh, fuck, Sir… I love it when you watch me! -ah” He called out, head falling back, his back arching as well. This exposed his neck full of hickies, and chest that was beautifully decorated too. His swollen nipples that were almost as red as his lips were, and the saliva that made his chest shine whenever the moonlight caught it. Bill was the most beautiful thing Stanley would ever see. “I’m so lucky that you watch me-“ he could barely even speak.

  
  


Stanley thought about letting Bill cum on his own, untouched and with no help as he watched him intensely, eagerly awaiting his release just as much as the man himself was. But, Stanley decided against it. He owed Bill, so he kept touching him. But, he wasn’t a perfect person… he wasn’t going to fuck him, yet. 

  
  


He helped him, he moved his thigh to the beat of Stanley’s pace every once in a while. Bill moaned louder and louder every time the surprise happened, and caught him off guard. 

  
  


Bill needed more, Bill craved more. With each new thrust he tried to work himself into Stanley’s lap rather than fucking against his thigh. And, to Bill’s credit, he got a few rides in before Stanley did something about it. They moaned loudly in unison every time their erections met, Bill was so close to finishing it wasn’t even funny. If Bill could think rationally at this point he’d be embarrassed. 

  
  


Stanley growled and moved him back to his thigh, he’d get no such help from him right now. Bill bit his lip at the sound of that possessive outburst, keeping Bill back in line. 

  
  


“Oh, fuck- St- Sir!! I’m… I’m gonna- ah!” Looking at him with wide, angelic eyes that Stanley almost gave into. The keyword there being, almost. Bill was clearly looking for assistance which he wasn’t going to get any time soon. If he was patient like he always was, he’d get it in time. But, that time was not right now. 

  
  


“Don’t look at me for help. You wanted to be a little slut and cum without me, so you can handle this on your own.” Stanley spat, his cock pressing painfully against his pants even more so now than before. He considered letting Bill grind his hips against his dick again but decided against that just as quick as the idea occurred to him. 

  
  


Stanley reached and rubbed his buds with his thumbs again, pinching and twisting them with his fingers. His abused buds called out for his attention once more and who was Stanley to deny that? This was all that Bill needed, and after a few more rolls of his hips, he was done. 

  
  


Stanley sensed this too, “Put on a good show for the neighbours, doll.” Stanley pulled him close to whisper that into his ear. And, was the last straw, and Bill went over the edge loudly before the words even finished leaving Stanley’s lips. Bill put on a good show indeed. Bill was loud, and nearly spasmed in his lap from seemingly nothing at all. He called out Stanley’s name over and over again, thanking him profusely for allowing him to cum, how he didn’t deserve to cum.

  
  


“You’re damn right you’re lucky, pet.”

  
  


Bill wasn’t seeing stars yet, but they still had lots of time together. So far the only constellations were the ones above. 

  
  


He came fast and hard like it was his first time ever being touched. Stanley smirked as he waited, and watched Bill open his eyes for the first time since his lids clamped shut as he came. Stanley was happy to see their beautiful turquoise colour, darkened and dilated by lust as his were as well.

  
  


Bill was a beautiful, debauched mess and they barely even began. Hair messy and sweaty, and lips swollen and red from Bill’s constant biting at them as a feeble and unsuccessful attempt to keep himself quiet. Which, Stanley was always amused by. Bill was such a loud fuck, so it was impossible to keep quiet even if he wanted to be. Besides, Bill liked to hear and be heard, so it made no sense to Stanley. Stanley was born amused and turned on by his fake innocent act either way. 

  
  


“Such a desperate little puppy. So worked up and all I did was kiss your neck and play with your sensitive tits.” Stanley finally was willing to budge and offer some assistance after the fact, bobbing his knee up and down which created friction against Bill’s freshly spent cock. He let out a wince/moan mixture at the pain and pleasure. 

  
  


Bill shuddered at the feminization, and grew embarrassed at just how much he seemed to like it. Stanley took mental note of his reaction and decided to bring it up later. Now would just ruin the mood. “They’re not-“ Bill tried to object but his words got lost in his throat when their eyes met, about to stand up for himself but deciding against it. He wanted to cum again, and make Stan cum that night after all. He fell silent without Stanley having to say anything, but still, he continued to get the point across, and because he liked to see him afraid of consequences. 

  
  


“Oh, so you’re going to tell your master he’s wrong?”

  
  


Bill shook his head profusely, no.

  
  


“Good. You better fucking not be. Because, I don’t think you’re in any position to do so. So desperate for me… even my thigh can get you off better than any other dick can.” Stanley stated proudly, fingers finding Bill’s buds again and he worked them over in time with the pacing of his words. Slow and achingly sensual, and still, Bill was starting to wither away again.

  
  


Stanley continued with his dirty talk, enthralling himself. And, was endlessly turned on by how it affected Bill to be talked to in such a deprived, vile way. In a way Stanley would be embarrassed to be overheard in. Stanley kept the kinky side to himself hidden very well. Even his best friends wouldn't be able to tell he liked to hurt and degrade his Bill to get off. Stanley wasn’t sure what hid it the best, his cardigans, his monogrammed bird watching binoculars or his ironed socks. Personally, he was annoyed that his genuine interests disqualified him from being taken seriously or gave some people the wrong impression of him. But, it was advantageous in other… aspects of his life, so he didn’t mind all too much. 

  
  


“I bet you want the real thing too? I bet you want my cock so fucking bad-“

  
  


Bill struggled to think, he was even struggling to breathe. “I do sir, I really, really so.” He panted, his spent cock already perking up again, just from the dirty talk alone. 

  
  


“I don’t know if I should even give it to you. Desperate little whores don’t deserve my cock.” Of course Stanley had no intention of stopping their escapade there. He was too far gone to even consider that an option. He just wanted Bill to work for it, and to obey him like him going back inside and leaving Bill to his own devices (aka, his hands. Stanley didn’t let Bill use toys unless he was around to watch and tell him what to do with them), was an option. 

  
  


“No!! I’ll be good for the rest of the night… I promise! Just… give me the chance and-“ Stanley pressed a kiss to his darling little pet’s lips to tell him that he wouldn’t do that to him, he wouldn’t just walk away out of nowhere. He’d get his cock, when he worked and proved he deserved it. 

  
  


“Such a whore… I bet you imagined the neighbours watching you as you came, didn’t you?” Stanley cooed as they both came up for air, a quick peck to calm him down turned into a hot and heavy kiss before Stanley or Bill even knew what happened. Not that either of them were complaining. Stanley fucked his lover’s mouth with his tongue, and tasted and savoured every gasp, moan and sigh Bill spilled into him. 

  
  


Bill nodded, nodded profusely. He was. He wanted to be watched so damn bad, but he had no brain power left to articulate those thoughts and reciprocate in dirty talk. All his remaining blood had left his brain and went to his cock. The same could be said for Stanley but, he had a natural talent, a knack, for dirty talk. No matter how many seconds away he was from cumming, he could whisper something so dirty and yet so eloquently phrased it was like it had come from a bestselling erotica novel. 

  
  


Bill kissed him again as he nodded, as much as Bill liked to be tied up he almost wished the plaid fabric of his flannel wasn't holding his hands behind his back. He wished he could run his hands through Stanley’s beautiful curls, and run enticing hands down his body. Stanley’s fingers were delicate now, dancing from his chest down his ribs, tracing them. And then settling softly on his hips as delicate as dandelion seeds.

  
  


His vulgar words as they came up for air again were a sharp contrast to how tender he was holding him. “I hope someone was watching- you deserve more than one set of eyes on you, darling. You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.” 

  
  


The real night and day difference was how Stanley was looking at him, so hopelessly enamoured and endlessly in love, meaning every word of his praises.

  
  


“I- I love you,” Bill stuttered out of nowhere, but it fit right in even so. Stanley pressed a kiss to the tip of Bill’s nose. “I love you so, so much.” Stanley promised. And that was all Bill needed to know to know that he’d made the right choice. He couldn’t explain why, but everything clicked. Everything was right with the world. 

  
  


Stanley’s grip on Bill’s hips loosened, but not by much. His hands were still possessively there, reminding him exactly who was in charge between the two of them- who was stronger. But, loose enough to acccomodate what he was about to tell him to do. 

  
  


“On your knees, baby. Go on, nice and good for me.” Stanley told Bill, with domineerence oozing from his deep voice, this was clear to Bill that this was a command, not a request. This quickly sent chills up his spine, chills so vivid not even the fire next to him could quell them. Bill tried to snake the blanket off of them and lay it on the ground so he’d have something to kneel on. But, Stanley shut that down right away. 

  
  


“You’re not going on the blanket. On your knees on the ground so it hurts.” Stanley grunted, relishing in the delicious sound of Bill’s responding whimper, having been put in his place. His rightful place. Bill felt his cock twitch at the sound of Stanley’s voice, and what he spat out to him. 

  
  


Stanley soon grew impatient, he wanted to be inside Bill as quickly as possible. He wanted Bill moaning beneath him as soon as possible. Fuck- he could hardly wait, the cock straining against his work slacks still reminded him of that. 

  
  


He swiftly grabbed Bill’s slim waist and held him in place, it wasn’t tight enough to hold him completely still (yet), but Bill knew well enough to not dare move. Soon, the tight feeling on his body went away and Bill bitterly whimpered, sad to feel it go. “Don't worry, my sweet little puppy. I’m nowhere near finished with you…” Stanley promisingly reassured him, and Bill wasn't face to face with him, but, he knew his boyfriend well enough to know that there was a smirk on his handsome face at that moment. Bill’s heartbeat picked up at the new subtly degrading term of endearment that he was growing very fond of. 

  
  


His hands did make their way back to Bill’s body quite soon after; their rightful place. Stanley’s broad chest was pressed right against Bill’s back, and Bill audibly mewled as he felt the bulge in Stanley’s pants press against him. Stanley’s arms wrapped around Bill and pulled him close, making him feel it. His hands snaked up Bill’s torso, and rubbed his hardened nipples through the fabric once again. Stanley loved how sensitive they were, a series of unashamed mewls poured through Bill’s lips. He tried to bite them to keep them contained, but it was no use. “Ah- Stan,” He cried out. 

  
  


He undid what was left of Bill’s fastened buttons on his flannel skillfully, trying to see Bill naked as quickly as possible, which, was accomplished. Stanley’s grip was unrelenting this time, and he had to accommodate Bill’s arms being restrained, and awkwardly fumbled his arms through the sleeves of his button up. Whatever. It was worth it to have him like this. This subdued. This at his command. Bill’s torso was exposed to the night, to Stanley, and any of their neighbours if they decided to look out their window. The prospect of someone seeing him like this excited Bill a bit. 

  
  


Stanley liked the prospect of it too. He liked the thought of someone seeing what was only meant for him to see. He liked the thought of someone seeing Bill totally consumed in pleasure, experiencing a feeling only Stanley could provide. He liked the thought of someone seeing how well Detective Denbrough could take cock. 

  
  


“Ass up, face down like you were meant to be. Whore.” Stanley told him, which Bill was all too eager to follow. It was the whore that did it for him, he moaned so loudly he was almost embarrassed. Almost. 

  
  


Stanley tried to bite back a groan that couldn’t be contained. It was the sight of Bill following his instructions as soon as the command left his lips that did it for him. Bill was on his knees, face down and clothed ass, patiently and eagerly waiting to be pounded into, up. “So, so good for me.” Stanley commented, rubbing his bottom affectionately. Bill blushed profusely at the endearing compliment that sounded so genuinely adoring that it felt strangely out of place tonight. 

  
  


Stanley quickly took both of Bill’s wrists in his large hand and tied them together behind his back with his flannel. Tightly, it would’ve been bordering on ‘too tight’ if those two words ever went together in Bill’s vocabulary or opinion. “Oh fuck- Stanley!” Bill murmured, and as per usual, Stanley adored the way his name sounded so enamouringly sinful on his lover’s lips. 

  
  


Stanley’s hands went around his waist once again, and just the brushing of his palm against his bulge absentmindedly make Bill shiver with want. Stanley laughed at his state, and Bill drank the condescension up like it was water on a hot day. Bill truly was in his element when he submitted to Stanley, and neither could get enough of it. Stanley’s fingers nimbly fumbled with the button and zipper on his pants, but did surprisingly well at undoing them considering he couldn’t see what he was doing. Bill sighed at the relief, his stiffening cock against his pants was starting to get a bit uncomfortable for his liking. Bill loved pain, but uncomfort was a big no for him. 

  
  


Bill aided him and made Stanley’s job a whole lot easier by kicking his legs ever so slightly to allow his tight jeans to come off easier. Neither of the two men were sure who was happier to see them go. Both were quite eager to get Bill to cum for a second time, in their own ways for their own reasons. 

  
  


“Sure you’re glad to be rid of these huh?” Stanley cooed, throwing Bill’s jeans off to the side somewhere, neither of them particularly cared where they ended up. Bill nodded, heart fluttering in anticipation for whatever was about to be done to him. One more article of clothing left to be removed and he'd be in heaven. He could hardly wait. Stanley was not happy with Bill’s silence. He always loved it so much whenever Bill was responsive to his ample supply of dirty talk. 

  
  


“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.” Stanley said bluntly, tone switched from seductively playful, to sharp as a blade; poisonous as venom. Bill didn’t dare look behind him, because he wanted to do only as he was told- a respect that his daddy liked. But, if he did, he’d see brown eyes that were usually so full of love and adoration; dark and dilated with palpable lust. Lust so very present that not even the sharpness of his tone could cut through it. Eyes that were dark and accompanied with a coldness, like there was nothing behind them. Stanley yanked down Bill’s boxers and suddenly Bill was bearing all to him. Bill shuddered as the cool air of the night brushed against his most sensitive skin, skin that only Stanley was allowed to see. Or; in the case of tonight, a neighbour or two if they just so happened to look into their backyard. 

  
  


Stanley brought his palm to the middle of one of his supple cheeks, stained with fading hickies and bite marks; some that looked newer than others. Stanley bit his lip and groaned at the sound of his hand making contact with his lover’s tight ass. That sound was always what did it for Stanley. Accompanied by the haze of pink that lingered behind after his hand had come up, Stanley could watch it redden for hours. Bill tied up, on his knees, exposing everything to Stanley, willing and eager to take any punishment Stanley wanted to give him- that was Stanley’s perfect idea of paradise. Heaven, some would say. And, probably the closest he’d ever get to it too. 

  
  


Bill whimpered at the pain, but halfway through the process of leaving his exhale of air, turned into a moan. A deep, unfiltered moan that made Stanley want to give him 9 more strikes to the soft flesh of his ass just to hear Bill make that noise over and over and over again. But, Stanley didn’t want to do that; he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. Plus, this was a punishment afterall, and, he knew his depraved sweetheart was already craving another hit. Only one spanking was more of a punishment than ten would ever be to Bill. Bill’s ass stung for a good few minutes, and was left behind with a pink handprint that had been there many, many times before. 

  
  


“Pray I don’t decide you deserve more.” Stanley all but spat, his behaviour afterwards really showed his mood. Usually when he spanked him, he’d kiss the mark his hand made better, and praise Bill endlessly. Tell him what a good boy he was for taking his punishment so well, and tell him how proud he was of him. No such treatment for his little slut tonight. 

  
  


His hand literally smacked sense into Bill, but his tone was much more effective at figuratively doing so. “Yes, sir. I am. Thank you….” Bill responded reverently, relishing in the sting and the shockwaves of pleasure he was still recovering from. He sort of hoped there would be more strikes to follow, but, he also didn’t want to put even a toe out of line. He didn’t want to upset Stanley. 

  
  


“That’s my good boy… always so grateful.” Stanley cooed, again. His tone changed back to a loving, doting dominant. The sadist in him fell on its sword; for now, at least. Stanley brought another hand to where he had just spanked Bill; but dealt no strikes this time: He rubbed the handprint lovingly, affectionately. Bill bent back into his touch and mewled. Stanley couldn’t get enough of that, “So cute…” Stanley praised quietly at least three times, so quietly in fact that if Bill wasn’t paying as close attention as he was, he could’ve mistaken it for the wind. Bill loved this affection, treasured it. He wanted to be kissed where he was being touched as well, but knew better than to test his luck. 

  
  


The praise was taking another hiatus as quickly as it had left Stanley’s lips again; degradation following suit. 

  
  


“Slutty little thing, cumming in your jeans like a teenager. And I barely even touched you yet….” Bill nodded frantically, it was all true so he couldn’t dispute a thing. But, knew better than to leave it at that. “Yes sir… that’s exactly what I am… a selfish little slut who came before you got the chance to. I’m s-sorry,” 

  
  


Bill was exposed, completely and totally. It was such a degrading position, exposing everything. Face down, ass up, completely undressed with his boxers and his jeans scrunched up around his calves. 

  
  


That reply earned a kiss, finally that earned a kiss and Bill felt the butterflies in his stomach finally come out from their cocoons. Bill felt so accomplished, like he’d done something right. Being with Stanley was such a magical thing, Bill couldn’t explain it. Even after all these years, he still felt that magical feeling that made him feel like he was floating on air; like how little kids do when their first crush looks at them from across the room. The kind of bliss that makes you want to pick petals off a flower to see if someone loves you or not. Stanley could even make him feel that kind of way while on his knees, tied up with his own shirt keeping him there. 

  
  


Stanley placed a kiss to the small of his back gently, his hands moving to his hips to keep him where he wanted him. “Don’t worry, honey. I'm sure you’ll more than make up for it like you always do. That tight little hole of yours will milk me dry real soon… can hardly wait to feel you… to be in you…” Stanley purred, the ghosts of his words breathed down his skin and ghosted against his hole that was beginning to have something done to it. Bill was moaning effortlessly now. Stanley could be silent for the rest of the night, and that dirty little musing would be replaying in Bill’s mind like a broken record. 

  
  


“Can’t wait… either. F-Fuck… I want you inside of me, sir…” Bill nearly screamed, he wanted Stanley so bad with such a tangible, consuming want he was nearly left quivering just by breaths ghosting against his on display skin already. “Shhh, in time baby… in time…” Stanley soothed him. Stanley kissed hollow of Bill’s back at the base of where his spine starts, and sucks a love bite there for good measure. Just in case there was any doubt as to who he belonged to. 

  
  


“Let’s give you something to really make you cum, yah? You want that, baby?” Stanley asked, not really asking out of a genuine concern or interest. He knew damn well what the answer was. Bill was nearly fucking shaking underneath him, of course he knew he wanted it. Stanley just wanted his ego stroked; which was why he did most things, to be honest. He wanted Bill to struggle to verbalize just how much he wanted him- because words could never do his desire justice. “More than anything- please!” Bill replied, frantic. And Stanley was more than willing to give into that franticism. 

  
  


Stanley started off soft and tender; two characteristics he played the part of well, but at his core truly was the furthest thing from. Stanley scattered soft kissed across his ass, which slowly turned into bites and nips at the soft flesh that needed to be marked all over again; Stanley decided at that moment. And. Bill was happy to lay there and be marked. Every so often Stanley’s hands would wander and squeeze at Bill’s thighs as well; not being able to help himself. Bill mewled helplessly and couldn’t wait to receive more. Stanley kissed in the direction leading to his hole, letting his teeth scrape across his skin as he did so. 

  
  


Bill’s thighs were really shaking now; Stanley couldn’t wait to give him something to really tremble over. 

  
  


“So fucking pretty baby….” Stanley praised, 

“Your tight little fuckhole is just too fucking perfect,”

  
  


Stanley’s hands travelled from his hips to his cheeks, cupping the supple flesh harshly and pulling them apart. Bill’s entrance fluttered under his watchful stare. He kissed his hole, it should’ve been gross but it wasn’t- it was affectionately tender and Bill pushed back into his face to get more of it. Stanley spoke sweet nothings into his skin that Bill could barely hear; all while kneading the flesh beneath his finger tips. Bill was just happy his hole was finally receiving direct attention. Stanley sucked some colour into Bill’s pale skin one last time, biting into his asscheek one last time. The hickies on his ass were so numerous Stanley didn’t even want to bother to count. 

  
  


Stanley’s tongue traced the outline of his ass, over and over and over again as if he was trying to commit it to memory. “Please!!! Please, please Sir-“ Bill begged and pleaded, and Stanley decided that tonight he didn’t like to be told what to do, or even be given a suggestion. He entertained the thought of punishing Bill for begging and not being a good boy and trusting his master, and not sitting there and taking whatever his master was generous enough to give him. He did more than just entertain the thought, he favoured it. But, decided that was better left saved for another time. AKA tomorrow, probably. 

  
  


Stanley licked at his entrance once more and prodded him open. Finally! Bill thought, nearly screaming out a groan at the feeling of penetration he missed so dearly. Stanley pulled his cheeks back even more, allowing him even more room to go as deep as he could. Bill couldn’t stop moaning as he felt Stanley’s wet appendage push past his ring of muscle over and over and over again. 

  
  


Stanley’s skillful hand went between his thighs, and grabbed at his boyfriend’s cock which made Bill moan in delight. His cock was slick with precum, and he whimpered at the contact. He was sensitive and knew he wasn’t going to last long, Stanley knew this as well but still wanted to test him and push him to his limits. The pace of his hand matched the pace of his tongue, a dangerous combination that made Bill’s moans turn to screams, drowning in pleasure as his member leaked vile amounts of precum into his boyfriend’s hand. The tip was reddened and glistening, and Stanley couldn’t get over what a pretty and painful sight it was. He loved the thought of Bill hurting; and even briefly entertained the thought of over stimulating Bill so much to the point where it hurt to cum. But, he’d see where the night took them he supposed. Bill’s greedy ass pushed back up into Stanley’s face as he got tonguefucked. Bill was sobbing and moaning like a mess. 

  
  


Stanley was behind him fully clothed, jerking off his sensitive cock while fucking his greedy hole with his tongue. It was hopelessly embarrassing in the best way possible. It felt like they were at this for hours, Stanley savouring every inch of him, thrusting in and out at a dependable pace that Bill was losing his mind over. If they were on their bed right now, he’d be grabbing at the sheets and tugging them like his life depended on it. Instead he dug his fingers into his own wrists, the only thing he could grab ahold of in his bound and subdued state. If Bill was in any way conscious, and not totally and completely mentally subdued in a fog of lust, he would've known he was bleeding from just how deeply he’d dug into his wrists. He didn’t feel the blood trickle down, and didn’t see it either. Stanley did and nearly came right then and there. The only thing Bill did in a vague response was moan at the stinging, sharp pain. The only tangible emotion he was feeling in that moment was lust. 

  
  


And just when Bill thought he couldn’t feel any better; just when he thought it couldn’t get any better- it did. Stanley got a lot more touchy and hands on; rather than just using his tongue. He used his free hand to rub soft circles behind his balls, massaging them as he stroked his aching cock. Bill whimpered as he felt Stanley’s tongue pull away ever so slightly. But his heart picked up speed when he felt Stanley spit into his asshole, to make sure Bill was nice and prepared for what he was about to do to him. Which always meant one thing whenever Stanley ate him out, which was a regular activity for the couple; at least a couple times a week. 

  
  


And, Bill was right in his assumption and getting excited. Stanley slid in his pointer finger alongside his tongue. He worked both in perfect unison to pleasure his lover, and Bill fucked back into them to get as much as he possibly could. Bill nearly spasmed when Stanley curled his finger up at the perfect angle at just the right moment and hit the spot Bill’s body was begging him to. Bill fisted into imaginary sheets that usually were there, but wouldn't. Stanley chuckled at his folly, which sent delicious vibrations against Bill’s skin. He slid in another finger to reward Bill for being so good, and Bill graciously accepted, and thanked him profusely. Not that the “Thank you, sir!”s were particularly understandable, they were severed by a series of moans but, Stanley was well aware of what he was saying. And, let out groans of his own in reply every time. 

  
  


“I’m gonna-ah! -cum!” Bill announced sexily and unceremoniously. And above all, beautifully. His head was arched back as he called out, his face almost as red and flushed as the bites on his ass were. His auburn hair was tousled and in a sweaty mess that clung to his dewy forehead. His long eyelashes were nearly fluttered shut, but if he had the energy to keep his eyes open, you’d see his eyes rolled to the back of his head in pleasure. He was about to cum, and announced it beautifully. So beautifully in fact, that Stanley almost let him.

Almost. Nearly. 

His domineering nature and need for control took over before that could happen. 

  
  


“No you fucking won’t, slut. Not before I do.” Stanley’s dark tone came back in full force just in case Bill had gotten too comfortable and needed another reminder who was really in charge here. That was a reminder Stanley was more than happy to dole out. Stanley loved Bill to be his pillow princess, but he’d be damned if Bill started to fucking act like one. Bill got chills, he loved to play with Stanley’s black fire, and loved to get burned just as much as he loved to feel its warmth. 

  
  


“Selfish fucking slut. How many times are you going to get off tonight?” Stanley asked sharply; razor sharply. This was a rhetorical question of course. Bill knew better than to talk back and answer him. Bill let out a moan, and Stanley let out the hottest, most possessive growl Bill had heard from him in awhile. Bill didn’t know how he still had the strength to kneel before him, his legs were starting to buckle just at the sound Stan let out alone. 

  
  


A primal, lustful urge came over and took over Stanley in that moment and he wasn’t even sure why. Stanley bit him on the ass so hard he drew blood, and lapped up the taste with the same fervor he’d ate him out with, not letting a drop go to waste. He bit him with the depravity that he wanted to bite all his victims with, but didn’t because he knew that would leave evidence. 

  
  


Bill screamed in pain and pleasure at the feeling. Bill knew just by the feeling alone, not even seeing the damage; that that would stay a lot longer than a hickey would. Stanley grabbed him by the hips and turned him over in an instant, both events happened in such quick succession they almost blurred together and didn’t seem real. This was all happening so fast and Bill couldn’t wait to experience what was to come. Bill saw the crazed hunger in his eyes as soon as they were finally brought face to face. 

  
  


Bill nearly thanked G-d when he heard Stanley fumble with his own belt and pant zipper, hearing the familiar jingle sound of his buckle and almost started to feel a giddy sort of smile tug at his lips. He didn’t let that show however. 

  
  


“F-fuck me, please-“ Bill tested his luck in asking this, desperate and panting. And Stanley melted into his desperate crystalline eyes, and gave in… in his own special way. 

  
  


Stanley brought their lips together to keep him quiet, savouring the way his mouth was so responsive, and eager to meet the pace Stanley wanted. Bill shuddered in his grasp as Stanley hungrily kissed him, grunting as he dug his nails deeper into Bill’s skin. Massaging their tongues together ever so intimately, it almost distracted from the animalistic actions prior.

  
  


This kiss also served as a distraction, as Stanley slipped his cock inside of Bill’s barely prepped hole. Both of them mewling into each other’s open mouths at the breach, and moaning at the feeling of Stanley going in deeper. Bill gasped against Stanley’s tongue, and quivered in his arms. He couldn’t wait for more. Still, it fucking hurt though. Even after all this time, he still needed to be prepared to accommodate Stanley’s size- which he did not get. It was a great kind of pain, but a pain nonetheless. Bill could’ve used a heads up. 

  
  


Stanley was in no mood to prepare Bill for what seemed like hours until he was begging sloppily and desperately for it. Fuck him with his fingers, and working his lover up until he was good and ready, which was usually what they did. No. Stanley wanted to be in him now, and Stanley always got what he wanted. 

  
  


“Fuck-!” Bill pulled away from Stanley to yell at the sudden intrusion. Stanley groaned at his response, and how perfectly tight his lover was as he pushed every inch of himself inside of him, relishing in how fucking good he felt. 

  
  


“You want to be fucked so bad, take it. Take it all.” Stanley grunted against Bill’s skin, inches away from his lips, sliding in all the way until he was balls deep inside of him. He stayed there like that for a bit, not so Bill could get used to it. But so the pain would have to seer, so Bill would feel it tangibly for a few more secondsz 

  
  


Bill squirmed beneath him to ease the slight pain, moving his hips around to try and take more of him in; to try and stretch himself so it wouldn’t hurt as badly. “You slut… I should make you take my huge cock raw next time. Split you open into fucking two like you deserve.” Bill swallowed hard, he wanted that so badly it nearly consumed him in delirium. He winced at how painful that would be in the best way possible. In a way only Stanley could make him find pleasurable. 

  
  


Bill became enamoured with the idea of just how badly that would hurt. Usually, it stung the morning after and it hurt to walk until mid afternoon. But if what Stanley was talking about happened, fuck- he’d walk with a semi noticeable limp for days. Bill tried, and failed, to bite back a moan. He was so embarrassingly loud he would’ve covered his face if his hands were free. 

  
  


“You always say you want it to hurt. Here. I’ll make it fucking hurt.” Stanley told him, and Bill almost came right then and there on the spot. He loved being spoken to like that, like he served no other purpose just to be good for him. 

  
  


Stanley left him no choice but to get used to the fast pace; so hard and so almost territorial that it was animalistic. Stanley gripped at Bill’s hips the harshest he'd grabbed him all night, digging into his skin as deep as he could. Determined to make marks that would do more than just linger, he wanted them to be bright purple and vermillion bruises that would last for weeks. The ensuing blood that dripped down the milky white skin of his thighs was an added bonus. An added bonus that Stanley would never stop thinking about. 

  
  


Stanley watched intensely every time his cock disappeared into his lover as he pistoned in and out of him at a fast pace that left Bill gasping for air. The slapping of skin and slamming of hips was lewd ambience to their activities. The air of the night got more and more frigid the longer they stayed outside, but the body heat of their proximity kept them perfectly warm. Bill’s desperate moans and mewls and Stanley’s satisfied possessive groans blended together in a perfect symphony. 

_In and out_

_In and out_

_In and fucking out._

  
  


Stanley could be inside of Bill forever. His perfect, tight ass clenched around his cock every single time he hit his prostate dead on. Bill shuddered and shivered every time Stanley’s teeth teasingly nipped and sucked at the ruined skin of his collarbones every now and again. Burying his head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his lover’s messed auburn hair. Stanley was in paradise. 

  
  


“Mine. Mine. Mine. You belong to me,” Stanley all but growled, pounding their hips together harder so he could go even deeper. Bill wasn't just seeing stars now, he was seeing full constellations. Bill mined obscenely at the repeated use of the word “mine”, he loved being Stanley’s so badly it hurt. Literally. His cock was pressed between their stomachs and left painfully unattended. Bill really wished the restraint on his wrists wasn’t there, just so he could give himself that last step of relief. 

  
  


“You’re mine. Tell me you’re mine,” Stanley said this often. He needed to hear it, he needed confirmation that Bill was his and his alone. Bill was just too damn good to be true. Stanley had so much love for him that he felt crushed by it sometimes. The burning of his own eternal flame consumed him to his very core most days; until Bill was all he thought about, the only person he wanted to see or talk to. Sometimes it was just so much intensity all at once. 

  
  


“I’m yours! Oh, fuck- I’m yours, Stanley-“ Bill all but sobbed, so fucked out and so far gone. He clenched himself tightly around Stanley, wanting to get all the pleasure he could out of this. It was easier but still hurt so bad and he loved every moment of it. 

  
  


“I love you so fucking much Bill. More than I've ever loved anyone- more than I'll ever love anyone.” Stanley told him, not stuttering or slurring once. He was always so clear and controlled, even while he was moaning and panting deep inside of his boyfriend. 

  
  


“Bill, you’re so perfect- you feel so perfect. I love you. I love you.” He couldn’t stop repeating as he relentlessly pounded into him, Bill felt he was near tears as the overstimulation was about to become too much. “I love you too-“ He called out, barely. Stanley knew he was the fucking luckiest man alive. He kissed Bill just because he could, not to keep him quiet or to shove his member inside him without preamble. He kissed him just to savour him, to tell him that he loved him for the nearly 10th time that night, without actually saying the words.

  
  


Repetition of the phrase ‘I love you’ didn’t dull its meaning between the two of them, because they meant it more and more each time. 

  
  


A spare hand moved from Bill’s hips to his dick, stroking it in time with the rhythm of his hips. The precum dripping from his tip lubricated his length, and made the most obscene sounds as Stanley jerked him off- sounds they both couldn’t get enough of. 

  
  


“I love you. I love you so fucking much I can barely stand it.” He couldn’t stop saying it, he wouldn’t stop saying it. And Bill couldn’t stop listening, he couldn’t stop the flutters of his heart whenever Stanley said it. He wouldn’t stop, either. 

  
  


Stanley’s lips on Bill’s skin, his cock mercilessly pounding into him, his hand on his own erection- it was the perfect trifecta and Bill felt as if the world stopped spinning for a moment or two. 

  
  


“Oh G-d!” Bill sobbed, it all felt so good and he knew he was not going to last much longer. Stanley was proud of the reaction he had earned, and laughed coyly to himself. 

  
  


“My darling, I’m the furthest thing from G-d. But if you want to pray to me, I’m all for that.” Stanley smirked deviently, picking up the pace of his hand on Bill’s leaking member, and also the rhythm he was fucking into him. He was trying hard to stick to the speed he’d set when he’d first started but, his own impending release was starting to loom over him. Which, made that very difficult. Bill should’ve been scared by that comment, he should’ve been revolted. He should’ve had the sense to get up and run away. Senses failed him. All that mattered was the man inside of him. The man on top of him. The man he’d planned to spend the rest of his life with. 

  
  


Bill was so loud, so fucking loud and Stanley had never heard a sound he liked better. The volume of the sounds escaping his bitten and swollen lips rivalled the sound of their hips colliding. Bill felt Stanley smirk against the abused skin of his neck, “You absolute fucking whore, listen to how loud you are… you’re so fucking loud. I bet all the neighbours can hear you.” Stanley murmured, pride practically oozing from his voice. 

  
  


“I- want them to know how much I- fuck! How much I want you, s-sir,” Bill replied, which was quite the difficult task considering Stanley hadn’t stopped fucking him or stroking him off. Stanley would have commended him on that, if it wouldn’t have ruined the moment. He took mental note that that must’ve been difficult. Which, only made him more appreciative and more in love with him for being such a good boy for him. “Fuck, I love you-“ Stanley repeated, 

  
  


“You sound so fucking pretty,” Stanley continued, telling him breathlessly, quickly approaching his own undoing as well. He noticed Bill’s eyes flutter completely shut, which was a dead give away that he was going to finish very, very soon. 

  
  


Finishing. Ideas swirled in Stanley’s fucked up mind at the thought of finishing, himself. Thousands of mental images of Bill and cum came to mind, where did Stanley want to finish tonight? Inside of Bill’s, while he was buried deep inside of him, watching it leak down his thighs- that sounded promising. Or, on Bill’s stomach, making his slender frame glisten and hearing him moan in spent delight as he licked it up- that sounded promising too. Or, on his back, decorating every inch of it in his spunk. That was also a good option.

  
  


Stanley finally settled on an idea. 

  
  


Stanley pulled out of Bill with a lewd sound akin to a ‘pop’, and Bill whined at the sudden emptiness. He wished his boyfriend could be buried deep inside of him forever. He always got too accustomed to being full of his cock, which only made it worse when he left him. “I love you. I love when you’re a good boy for me.”

  
  


“Didn’t want you to cum without me telling you when to. Only cum when I tell you to, like a good boy.” Stanley explained with little sympathy. And, Bill nodded in understanding, which earned him an affectionate pat on the head that felt deliciously condescending in the best way possible. Bill was almost ashamed at how much he ate that up. 

  
  


“Gonna be a good boy and cum when I tell you?”

  
  


Bill nodded, with a cute pout on his flushed face that nearly made Stanley give up his whole charade, and switch from dominant to a service top before Bill could even blink. 

  
  


The key word there being ‘nearly’. 

  
  


“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that. I thought daddy told you he likes when his puppy answers when he talks.”

  
  


“Yes sir. I’ll be a good boy for daddy and only cum when he says that I can,” Bill replied, which earned an enthusiastic kiss from Stanley that Bill was far too proud of himself for receiving. 

  
  


After they came up for air after a brief, but passionate kiss, Stanley got up. On weak legs, Stanley stood before him, and Bill got far too excited, he was expecting to suck his cock. But, that was not the case. Stanley had other plans. “On your knees for me, pretty boy.” And Bill eagerly followed instructions, and was on the edge of his metaphoric seat waiting for more. 

  
  


Bill watched with wide eyes and reverence as Stanley jerked himself off. Stanley had restraint as his own hand worked him to completion, barely letting out any moans or groans. He didn’t mind if his own undoing was a bit anticlimactic, it was a means to an end, what he had to do in order to see Bill’s pretty face covered in cum. He bit his lip shut to keep his noises contained and concealed, the only evidence of pleasure on his face was the way his brows furrowed and expression contorted. 

  
  


“Oh fuck,” He cursed, seconds away from cumming and he knew it, he felt it in the way his knees were starting to buckle. He averted his gaze from the beauty on his knees in front of him, he knew one look at Bill would send him over the edge before he could give him coherent instructions. 

  
  


“Open up, slut. Don’t you dare miss a fucking drop…” He told Bill, who didn’t need to be told that. 

  
  


One final stroke and Stanley felt please course through his entire body, hitting him in waves as he finished all over Bill’s face, cock still in hand as he watched his spunk paint him. Stanley used all his remaining, undissolved strength to hold himself up and keep himself standing. 

  
  


Bill’s pretty face was covered in his translucent cum and Stanley would die on the hill that Bill had never looked better. He used his skillfully sinful tongue to reach all that he could, and Stanley was more than willing to help him get what he couldn’t reach. He used his own free hand to scoop it up with his fingers, and guide it to Bill’s ardent mouth that was desperate to be pleased and receive more sweet praises. 

  
  


Bill sucked his fingers obscenely like he was prepping the digits to enter him; as they had done so many times. He worshiped every square inch of skin he was given with his tongue, tracing the webbing of his fingers and the pads of them as well. 

  
  


Stanley couldn’t get enough of how much Bill was enjoying this, letting out obscene little mewls as he licked his fingers clean. And, the cute sound of sadness he let out when he pulled his digits from his lips, a string of his saliva connecting them together before it broke. 

  
  


“Not that you’d want to miss any of my cum anyways… lap it all up, trull. Worship my cock like you were meant to.” He said, bringing his tip to Bill’s waiting lips to lick and clean off; which he did with desperate fervour. Savouring every last bit of cum he could get on his tongue. 

  
  


Once Stanley was satisfied, he joined Bill on the ground once again and sat eye level in front of him. Bill was so, so close and Stanley could sense it. He stroked him off to help him along the way to release. 

  
  


“C’mon princess, -wanna see you… Wanna see you cum.” Stanley said; for the first time in a while that night, lovingly. He caressed his cheeks with a featherlight trace, truly and wholly infatuated with him. Finally giving him permission to finish as well. Bill thankfully indulged his request, and finished, trembling into Stanley’s soft touch. Bill cried out as he came and his vision faded to black. 

  
  


Bill nearly collapsed into Stanley’s arms, his thighs buckling as they both gave out. He was far too tired and far too spent and used to hold himself up anymore. Stanley eagerly caught him, and held him close to his chest. Bill could feel his rapid heartbeat and was comforted by the frantic metronomic sound, proof even after everything, his lover was human. And, loved him a lot. Bill kissed his chest softly, letting that speak for him since his throat was still recovering from yelling so loudly and being so thoroughly abused just the way he liked. Postsex burn was so deliciously painful, he adored every second of carnal agony. Of course, he loved the man who caused him to feel that way the most. 

  
  


The gesture overcame Stanley, a feeling of love so intended washed over his entire body, coursed through every one of his veins. “I love you,” Stanley whispered, speaking as loud as his strained voice would allow him to. “You’re so cute…”

  
  


Bill placed another gentle kiss to Stanley’s sternum, where his tired head lay. He could feel his heart beat speed up at the gentle affection, Bill was convinced Stanley was the cute one. 

  
  


Stanley in turn could feel Bill smile against his skin. 

  
  


They stayed like that for awhile, catching their breaths as they exchanged quiet ‘I love yous’ as the cool midnight air touched their flushed skin, still stained and marked with the evidence of their rough sex. Stanley untied his wrists and freed them, but Bill was far too tired to make use of the freedom. 

  
  


Stanley picked him up, and Bill fell limp in his arms. “You’re so good for me baby… so, so perfect…” Bill preened at the praise, but was too tired to say anything back, he just let his big blue eyes radiate all the emotion he needed to, Stanley nearly melted as their gazes met. “You’re so pretty...just look at you. How does a bath sound for my perfect boy?” Stanley asked, brushing Bill’s bangs off of his sweaty forehead, Bill nuzzled into his touch which caused him to completely melt. Bill nodded, and let out a content sigh. “Perfect… can’t wait to take care of my baby,” Stanley sighed too, completely and totally happy. He’d never known what true euphoria felt like until this very moment. He was living proof of it.

  
  


“I love you, Stanley,” Bill croaked out, voice hushed and raspy, this had been the quietest he’d been all night. Stanley’s heartbeat picked up at the sound of his lover's meek voice, he sounded so used and so put in his place, exactly how he liked to see him. He loved seeing the aftermath of fucking him so roughly. “I love you too, Bill,” He beamed back, continuing to comb his spare hand through his lover's messy auburn hair, carrying him through the house to their bath, the house they'd shared for so long and created so many memories inside. 

  
  


And though the years had been sweet and the memories even sweeter; They'd both outgrown this house in the past few years. And they'd both outgrown Derry as well, and they were excited to see what the world had to offer them. Excited and content for the future, excited and content for a future where nothing could harm them, because Stanley would kill anyone who tried to. 

  
  


Stanley praised him endlessly as they walked. 

“The bath salts you like are packed away in a box somewhere… I can get them for you if you want, baby,” Stanley asked, still dotting on him, still touching him- needing to touch him. Bill shook his head no, “It’s… it’s okay. I’m okay,” Bill croaked again, smiling to reassure him he meant what he said. And something about that, made Stanley love him even more- something about his easiness, his easiness to please. And again, that post sex voice did something to him Stanley couldn’t explain. Yah. Bill was worth holding onto, and never letting go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not sure what else im going to do with this story, as i hadn’t really worked out an entire plan for this story when i started to sit down and write it, but who knows.
> 
> this chapter was particularly shamelessly smutty, i’m not sorry-
> 
> as mentioned, i found this in a file, i’d abandoned this work and left it at 2 chapters for G-d knows how long. i only updated this to get me back in the swing of writing. idk if i’ll ever come back to this story!! sorry i’ve been so MIA on here, my mental health is fucking ass rn, and school and my job own my ass atm lmao. literally all i do these days is schoolwork, work or apply for scholarships for university
> 
> so! let me kno?? do u want bill and stanley to make it and make it work? do u want bill to wise up and leave his ass? do u want bill to start work at his new police station and start an affair with a certain officer tozier??? or a certain sergeant hanlon??? if i ever come back to this story i might make that happen ;)
> 
> i’ll try my best to be more active, if i even can  
> blahhhhhhhhh i’m so all over the place! (＿ ＿*)
> 
> all my love, from me to you <3  
> \- f ♡

**Author's Note:**

> title from serial killer by lana del rey
> 
> maybe one of these days my story titles won’t be from a song...
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated & adored! <3


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